The Magic of Family
by CoyoteBear
Summary: Rieki is a girl with no family other than her younger sister, Olive, and her abusive mother. When her and Olive's past raises from the shadows and threatens to kill everything and everyone Rieki has come to love she must step up to the plate and face her past in order to save her friends. But, with a killer on the loose set out to kill her, can she manage to save them, and herself?
1. The Friends

**Ever just sat and wondered how magic ever began? If someone just waved their hands and poof! There it was? Or, if it was much more extensive, involving hours of laboring study and burning mixtures of inept potions that never seemed quite right?**

 **These things I don't think of much. I'm just thankful I have what I have and see thinking into it as a sort of shooting the gift horse in the mouth.**

 **But, on the other hand, my best friend, Lyre, does. She could sit for hours on end rambling about her theories and thoughts on the world in private, but shoved before others she tends to clamp up and shut down behind her mane of white waves. Much like right now.**

 **I'm smiling at her encouragingly from across our tables, we usually sit together outside when we can but today the professors directed, read forced, us all to our own tables for the new first years. Lyre is in her fifth year, I'm on my sixth.**

 **Besides our age the only other obstacle is our houses. Gryffindor, my house, and Ravenclaw, her house, tends to get along but being in separate houses and years usually splits you apart most days.**

 **Sitting beside Lyre, dazed off into some fantasy, is Monarch. She and I have known each other the longest due to growing up in muggle homes not far from one another, before I moved. She's an avid singer and actor but shows her true colors when she outsmarts everyone in class and usually has the answer to things that just completely boggle my mind. If I'm honest, it's makes me twinge with annoyance at times because she never allows other students time to process the question before answering. I have two classes with her, history of magic and transfiguration.**

 **A singed piece of parchment flutters down onto my empty plate; we're patiently waiting for the first years to arrive and are all just about ready to tear into everything in sight. I raise my brow and pluck the paper from the table, smoothing it in my lap.**

 **It reads: if our siblings somehow end up switching on us and your sister ends up in my house and my sister ends up in yours, whose fault is that?**

 **I smother a grin, laughing into my robe. I glance over at the Slytherin table and shoot a raised brow at my guy friend. Deck has his dark brow raised, not near as triangular shaped as mine but still to a point, and a slight smirk rounding his pale mouth. I mouth back 'still yours' with a cheeky grin I'm rewarded with a fond eye roll.**

 **Deck is one of those who could have fit in either Slytherin or Ravenclaw, but his ambition toppled his ridiculously large brain and he was clothed in green rather than blue. He's especially good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, one of the three classes I have with him other then Astronomy and Herbology. Both of our siblings are first years this year; we nag each other constantly about rubbing off too much on the others sibling.**

 **Wicca catches me making faces at Deck and winks at me. I blur my gaze, an equivalent to crossing my eyes, and scrunch my nose; I can her tinkling laugh from three tables away. She, along with Lyre, is exceptionally dear to me; we almost look like we could be related in fact. We grew up near each other as well and we've been close ever since she and I literally ran our carts into each other our first year and ended up chasing two owls around the train station. She and I have all our classes together save Defense against the Dark arts and Herbology. Wicca's always there when I need her, undemanding and understanding.**

 **Our friend, Ray, sits in front of Wicca and Deck, ignoring most of the chatter around her and frowning at her plate. Her boyfriend, Dick, sits next to her and by the looks of it, he's pissed her off. Again. They fight more then they agree on things; it's a mystery why they're still together. Sometimes I'm thankful our only shared class is Astronomy. I love her, but Dick is well, a dick and sometimes it rubs off.**

 **If I stretch my neck I can see my friend Chief sitting at Huffelpuff doodling in his art book. He's laughing into his pencils, the ones I gave him for Christmas last year, at something his housemate, Quint, said about drums. He's in his seventh year, graduating this year, my heart aches. His girlfriend sits over in Slytherin somewhere, Kortana, and is in my year.**

 **"Hey, Rieki, isn't this your sisters first year?" Tenor asks me, nudging me with his clothed elbow. I blink at him a few times, screwing up my face in consideration.**

 **"Oh you mean Olive? Yeah it's her first. You should be glad; for once your last name won't be on the roll call." Tenor laughs nervously and shakes his head, pushing his dark rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. Tenor has several siblings, a number I haven't bothered counting, all with at least one in every year, save this bunch of first years.**

 **"What about your sister?" Nox asks, narrowing his brow and scratching at his somewhat curly hair. I nearly drop my head to the table; he's always jumping into the conversation or tuning in when we've well and covered the subject. Tenor deadpans him with a look of mock disappointment.**

 **"They said she's a first year, you know, the mini-Rieki?" Furry, another friend asks, bright green eyes trained on Nox. My dear, often oblivious friend Nox ruminates over this for a minute, obviously trying to conjure some mental picture. His eyes widen and he lets out a soft 'oh'.**

 **"Oh her. Aren't Deck's sister, Shy, and Wicca's brother, Newton, first years too?"**

 **" Shy is, Newton was last year," I answer, pointing to the boy with blonde hair and familiar green eyes down the table, and tucking my dark curl behind my ear. Tenor tugs it out of place and clicks his tongue at me. I don't bother putting it back, he'll just release it again. Instead I shoot him a searing glare and flip my bangs out of my face.**

 **The sorting ceremony begins with the usual speech and introduction of teachers, but for some reason Trelawny's gone. The children fly by, some I know through features, some I don't know at all. I focus mainly on my sister.**

 **They say she's like me but I don't agree. Where her hair is blonde and shines like bronze mine is brown and tents gold in the light. Her eyes have occasional flecks of green and are much darker then my brown eyes, which, going off my friends judgment, often glimmer like plates of gold or, when angered, glow a furious red. We both have the rounded cheeks and butt chins.**

 **She smiles at me and does a little wave in her slightly large robe that took me all summer to save up the money for. I grin at her, hoping she can read the pride written plainly on my face. She confessed nervousness on which house she would fit into before we'd parted ways after the train ride. I promised her I'd assault anyone who mistreated her because she got a house they weren't fond of. She had laughed at that, even though she knows it's true. I knew Olive didn't want to disappoint me; I've practically raised her since I was eleven when our mother decided to be negligent and abusive, but never towards Olive, I've been sure of that. When I went away to Hogwarts I asked the Grazers to watch over her, an older couple sure that someone, something, was missing from their life and had moved from Australia in search of their missing piece. Our mother was a Slytherin, and her father was as well. Mine was Huffelpuff.**

 **I see a thin, pale boy with blue eyes I know too well talking to my sister from behind: the boy behind her is Lyres brother, Theseus, I realize. I'd completely forgotten it was his first year as well. I make eye contact with her and wiggle my brows at the two: she nearly slams her first down on the table in a motion I know is followed by "I ship it", but keeps her lips sealed and hand still.**

 **Decks sisters name snaps me to attention. I glance at him, offering him a half smile, one which he returns with a raised, worrisome brow. His family all originated from Slytherin, other than Lyre's parents and siblings. Shy not following the family path could cause conflict in their family. They're somewhat like Malfloys; though, Deck and Shy are kinder and more attentive and protective towards their friends, while Tenors family was like the Weasleys; large and with an abundance of kids.**

 **The hat seems to ponder her for awhile. She sits there, face a mask of cool but feet fleetingly kicking against the stool. Her breathing seems forced and tight, but her dark eyes remain passive.**

 **"Slytherin!" It finally shouts. Her shoulders loosen a fraction and her steps, once off the stool, are gliding and easy. She hugs her brother with a slightly buck toothed grin, who ruffles her hair fondly. Usually they argue like a Malfloy and a Potter, but today they've seemed to find equal ground to stand beside one another on.**

 **The names before my sister blur really, I can't focus on much else. Tenor clasps my shoulder when she sits on the stool; I nearly take his hand in mine but doing so would result in another fight with his girlfriend, a Veela from Beauxbatons, and I'm not quite in the mood to rip her throat out today.**

 **Olive squeezes her eyes shut as the hat shouts " Gryffindor!". I stand up and grin at her widely; she rockets into my arms with a relieved gasp. I kiss her cheek and shoo her off towards her friends. Our family, as broken apart as it is, didn't care much about housing so whatever house would have been perfectly fine, but she wants Gryffindor, has the heart and gut for it.**

 **Theseus is called out as Slytherin which honestly doesn't surprise me much. He's always been one to get what he wants, how he wants, but always through hard work on his part. I'm proud when Lyre shakily stands and first bumps him on his way to the table. Shy pulls him next to her and they wave at Olive.**

 **Finally the last kid was called, Ada Zrutz in Huffelpuff, and we are able to eat. I shovel the food down my throat and hardly bother tasting it. "Hey how come you didn't tell me we were racing?" Tenor asks a smirk glazing in his eyes. I nudge him, setting my spoon down briefly in my potatoes.**

 **"Pardon me for the negligence."**

 **All of a sudden the room stops abruptly when Professor Pastel, my head of house, comes barging into the room, gasping.  
" Okay, Potter graduated. This isn't a repeat of his first year with trolls, right...?" Furry asks, hands held out in wonder. I glance at Deck who shrugs in obvious curiosity. Headmistress McGonagall rushes to her and holds the thin woman in her emerald cloaked arms.**

 **"Whatever is the matter? Speak dear." Pastel breathes in deeply a few times, hands heavily braced on her knees.**

 **"Professor Trelawny is… Gone. Her last words were to protect the prophecy."**

 **"What prophecy?" Headmistress asks every ounce of patient as she was with her students. Pastel makes fleeting eye contact with my head of house, Sig, and I move my shoulder before Tenors and lean my body in front of his, just in case.**

 **"I'm not sure." Headmistress sighs, pinching her nose. I heard her mumble 'I thought this ended with Potter' under her breath as she stood with Pastel at her side.**

 **"Heads of household, escort your houses to their chambers. Everyone must remain in their rooms for tonight; classes shall begin tomorrow as scheduled." With that she directed Pastel by the shoulder to the table of teachers and leaves us to fill in the gaps.**

 **I make eye contact with Deck. He mouthed one word: RR. I nod shortly and do the same to Lyre and whisper it to Tenor, Furry, and Nox. Once our plans are set we follow orders, keeping an eye out on my sister all-the while, and wait amid our separate beds for the clock to approve of our plan.**


	2. The Room of Requierment

**Waiting is something I've never been fond of. It's like playing Janga, a popular muggle game where each player pulls a block out of a tower of blocks until the unfortunate loser picks the piece that sends the tower tumbling down.**

 **I imagine my patience as a tangible thing similar to that. With every tick of the clock a block of mine is swooped clear from the tower, leaving me with less and less to stagger with. Just before I'm sure my towers going to tumble, the clock finally reaches midnight.**

 **Every time we meet we go forward one hour on the clock, starting at twelve every year. Our next meeting will be at one and two the one after. If only houses were allowed to intermix more, we wouldn't have to sneak around like culprits.**

 **My roommates are all girls I don't speak to much other then Prim, a small girl that I began to help around her first year; she transferred in from Beauxbatons. I check on her before I exit the room, noting her regular breathing pattern and curled legs beneath the blanket.**

 **Getting past our portrait is easy enough; it's an older man with old scars mapping out his face and hands. He often sighs at my sneaking and chastises me but eventually gives way. My first year I'd sit and talk with him, coaxing stories of the war from him and of his family. He often tells me of his green haired, troublesome son who lives with his godfather. I've met his wife before, she's a painting over by Huffelpuff, and comes to visit her husband. Her bubblegum pink hair makes me smile.**

 **The painting smiles at me as he allows me to exit. "Don't forget the passage to the left, it's surly forgotten by now," he advises. I pull my cloak around myself tighter, offering a bright smile.**

 **"Then that is the route I will take. Do you know anything about Trelawny suddenly... Dying?" I ask, eyes flickering to all ends of the corridor. The paintings brow furrows for a moment, his hand brushes his brief case.**

 **" The Professors are saying it wasn't a spell that killed her."**

 **"Then what?" The painting shrugs, watching me carefully. I straighten a bit, wondering if Tenor or perhaps Furry have come my way yet, but I know I'm usually the first one out of bed.**

 **"I'm not completely sure. It could have been a number of things. Do be careful," he advises, watching me with a look of old age and fondness. I smile back at him and tip my head before fleeing down the hall.**

 **A secret passageway is behind a painting of another man I'm fond of. He has dark, unruly long black hair and shinning eyes that never aged a day past seventeen. He winks at me as I pull his frame back; I suppress a laugh as I tuck my legs under me and slide down.**

 **The passage isn't long and takes only a few moments before I'm faced with a dusky, ashen wall. I extract my wand, Phoenix feather with Holly, curved at 10 inches and adorned with a beautiful handle that fits right into my palm, and press it lightly against the wall. There's a slight indention there due to constant usage, but soon, the wall slowly descends until there's a gap wide enough for me to shove through.**

 **My feet plant firmly on slightly dusty floor, bare of prints save my own. I dust myself off and tuck my wand into my back pocket, scuffling into the room.**

 **Frosted, slightly charred, mirror walls all stare at me, an invitation to fold myself into the rooms original purpose. I smile slightly, glancing down at my footprints, marking this place as my own in a way.**

 **"If I was say, a prisoner escaped from Azkaban, you'd be dead." My smile widens as I spin around, cocking my brow at Deck. His long, fourteen inch wand remains curled within his fingers, slightly rose at the tip. He's smirking, lips itching upwards in a way of attempted restraint.**

 **"Well, rather good that you aren't, in fact, an escapee and are, in fact, just a mere sixth year student," I say, swallowing a grin. He rolls his dark eyes fondly, dropping the act and walking up towards me.**

 **We stand in companionable silence, exchanging fleeting eye contact. It reminds me of the time I was messily eating an orange, getting juice everywhere and awkwardly wrapping my mouth around the innards. We kept making eye contact over the fruit and ended up laughing every time. I tell him this and he laughs; a rare occurrence.**

 **"It's impossible to eat one while looking attractive," he says, quoting me from all those years ago.**

 **"For everyone," I agree. He twists his lips for a moment as if he's going to say something but changes his mind. I raise my rather embarrassingly triangular brow.**

 **"Maybe not a select few," he says, smiling brightly, another rarity. I laugh awkwardly, fighting back an astonished blink. "Were you proud of Olive?" I nearly double take at his sudden subject change but recover quickly.**

 **" I would've been just as proud if she was Slytherin, Huffelpuff, or Ravenclaw." Deck nods his head, peering into the walls. I wonder if he would have been proud of his sister, had that occurred, and glance at him sideways.**

 **" Before you ask, yeah I woulda been proud."**

 **"Aw how cute," I coo, booping him in the nose with my index finger. He cringes the way he always does and scrunches up his face. His hands fly up to retract my finger and wrap around my hand. Decks fingers are cold but his eyes are fierce in a way I've seen often but never tried to identify. I stare into them as his fingers touch my hand skin, glancing as if amazed. I notice there's a bruise painting the side of my hand and go to pull away before he can notice. I'm too late, judging by the burning look he shoots me.**

 **"My ship sails!" Lyre shouts from the entrance, watching Deck and I with expectant eyes. I recover quickly and facepalm, rolling the balls of my palm against my forehead as Decks face distorts in confusion. I lay a hand on his shoulder and shake my head.**

 **"Wha?"**

 **"Boats. You know the ones with sails? Though this is more of a destroyer more then just a little sail boat," Lyre explains, swooping up to us. I, as usual, steal one envious glance at her height; I'm 5'3, okay 5' nine in all honestly, and she's 5'7. And a year younger.**

 **"So, what was my OTP conversing?" Lyre asks casually, smirking at me behind her dark rimmed glasses. I peer at Deck, noting his even furthered confusion and look meeting mine questioningly.**

 **"Deck how did you ever get past that stupid picture?" Wicca's voice suddenly fills the room; I sigh in relief. Deck raises his brow and together we watch as Wicca brushes her robes off and slips her 9 inch, unicorn hair and oak wand into her pocket beneath her robes, like where my own hides. Lyre slaps off some dust she missed and Wicca smiled at her widely in thanks.**

 **"I guess it likes me more," Deck guessed, hiding a smile. Wicca frowns at him and blinks dubiously until he continues "Okay so I may have promised it I'd uncover a photo of someone near him. He does like me," Deck adds.**

 **"Yes because you're such a delight," I say sarcastically, quirking my lips to the side at him. He looks at me hard for a minute; I notice Monarch and Ray enter. My housemates are always the latest.**

 **"To some people I am!"**

 **"Like?"**

 **"Well you." My mind doesn't quite manage to follow his words meaning for a moment and I sit there blinking at him. When finally my brain decides to act like a brain I force myself to smirk.**

 **"Careful Deck, your ego is leaking," I warn, see Monarch's distasteful frown as Deck and I peer at one another, she hates being not included, in everything. He watches me for a hard moment then blinks his gaze towards Wicca, eyes slightly hoping for a defense. Wicca smiles in a way that make her eyes shine like emeralds and laughs.**

 **"Buuuurn," Lyre says, nudging Wicca. Wicca laughs again and gives me a look I'm familiar with, lips pinched, brow slightly raised at the center, and eyes barley narrowed with adoration splashed in her bright green eyes. I roll my eyes when she mouths 'you're such a couple'. The funny part about that is I'm not sure if he'd actually date me and she and Ray are hell-bent on it. Lyre even more so.**

 **"Did Rieki hurt herself again?" Nox asks as he, Tenor, and Furry stumble in. I scoff at him, scowling at my friends when they laugh. Admittedly, I am rather clumsy and do in fact manage to injure myself constantly. "I wasn't joking?" Nox asks more than tells, glancing me over for an actual, physical burn.**

 **"No Rieki hurt Deck," Ray says, flashing a smile. I nearly scoff at the possibility. Nox glances Deck up and down for a moment, curious. When it hit him he shook his head and made a face only describable as miffed. Ray laughs in her hushed yet insistent tone and nudges Wicca with her thin shoulders.**

 **"So what's this thing about Trelawny?" Monarch asks. Tenor looks at her as if appalled, cocking his head and placing a delicate hand over his heart.**

 **"You're Ravenclaw, don't you know everything?" He asks sarcastically. They don't get along too well, never really have, unless they needed something or Tenor needed to create drama.**

 **"Says the Gryffindor who freaks out on roller coasters!"**

 **"You didn't even ride the coasters!"**

 **"But my houses main characteristic is BRAINS not BRAVERY."**

 **" it was ONE time okay?"**

 **"Well then don't expect me to know everything. Do you know?" Monarch asks, turning to Lyre. Lyre shrugs her shoulder against mine, pushing up her glasses.**

 **"I know this prophecy was important. Something about connecting all the houses in an act of valor?"**

 **"Who told you that?" Wicca asks, brow knit. I notice Furry plop down on the floor and decide to join him, kicking at Decks ankles to get him down as well as pulling Lyre.**

 **"A ghost named Frank or Fletcher or Fred or something," Lyre replies once we're all sprawling on the floor. I vaguely remember this ghost; he was a casualty from the war as well as the painting of my house. There is, was, so many dead it was almost overwhelming at first, before the people started to fade on to find more loved ones in heaven or wherever else they go. My class was the first bunch of first years since the war. It was strange seeing everyone older but none quite younger pet terrestrials, which took me ages to figure out only those who have seen death can see the creatures. It's also rather sad how few of us there is; war time is not a good time for children. Our class is the smallest attending Hogwarts.**

 **"How would he know?" Furry asks the first thing he's said yet. His bright, olive green eyes flash against his pale skin and contrast with his rusty red hair.**

 **"He was a prankster and likes to spy on everyone he used to know when he was living," Lyre explains. Lyre isn't too fond of people but the ghosts have somehow nicked her attention. I usually catch her talking with them, knees crowded along the pale length of her arms or weighing her books on her hips with ghosts, Nearly Headless Nick, for example, or Fred hovering around her.**

 **"Most of her predictions were off and wrong, I wouldn't worry about it," Monarch advises, tapping her sandals on the floor and raising dust to cloud the air. I watch the dust spread slowly and touch all members of the room, and then fall flat to the ground.**

 **"I wouldn't doubt her," I say, tilting my head in slight competition. Wicca leans forewords slightly, away from Ray who hides her laugh from a scowling Monarch.**

 **"Everyone's got their own opinion Monarch don' be like that," Deck says, frowning at her. She shrugs her thin shoulders and glances off to the side.**

 **"That stuff just freaks me out, I wouldn't mess with it," Nox says, eyes wide and mouth in a half open shape. Tenor pats him on the shoulder, gazing off into one of the mirror walls for dramatic effect. I nearly sigh but rather exchange an amused look with Wicca.**

 **"Neither would I, my friend, neither would I," he says in a long, forlorn sort of way. I snort in amusement and see Deck shake his head and Lyre rolling her eyes.**

 **"Well I just think we should all move on and talk about something happy, like Rieki's birthday!" Wicca says, grinning sweetly at me. I groan, leaning closer to Lyre.**

 **"Your birthdays soon too," I say, hoping to divert the subject of matter off myself. It doesn't work, but I don't really expect it to. Instead she grins at me in a cheeky manor, mint green eyes sparkling.**

 **"But yours is closer! And this year we can all go to Three Broomsticks and celebrate," she says with a firm smile and nod. I shake my head, leaning and accidentally brushing against Deck. Our eyes meet; I force myself not to linger. He and I could stare for hours at one another; it's a sort of mind game we play. In a less complicated way it's trying to read into the others heart and soul through the gateway of eye contact. Some days I feel his presence and against mine and allow him in like opening flood gates. Others I block him and force him to pick through the labyrinth that is the path into my mind. Though, admittedly, he's there a lot anyway without even trying.**

 **"But-"**

 **"Rieki. Every year we try to take you out and every year you object and we do it anyway. Just chill out with us and let us do something for you for a change," Tenor says, usually playful gaze serious. I scoff and bite my inner lip, Lyre shoots me a glare so I'll stop.**

 **"I don't see why there's so much fuss," I say, looking from Furry to Deck. His eyes watch me carefully, calculating, hard but soft and concerned. I know what he's going to say; I brush him off.**

 **"We should take our siblings for some fun, since they're here now," I suggest instead.**

 **"I'm sure we can, at like Christmas time, but it's sorta hectic for them now," Deck says. I frown, knowing he's right but not quite wanting to admit it.**

 **"Did you know this is where Dumbledore's army began?" Lyre asks distantly, glancing around the room. I smile at her for the change of subject, following the trail of her gaze along the crystal mirrors and blackened spots.**

 **"And now we're here sneaking out of our dorms because we want to hang out," Nox says, looking at the place almost sympathetically. Furry frowns, quickly looking between Monarch and I.**

 **"Seems like a downgrade," Furry says.**

 **"Well it's better than just sitting here without any visitors, no one uses it for anything," Monarch argues. I frown, staring at a dark patch of the room, following my wondering mind.**

 **"This place materializes itself into what the person inside needs," I say, noting the statues towards the side, wands pointed and faces blank.**

 **"Yeah and we needed a hang out," Wicca says, accepting an agreeing nod from Ray who leans backwards on her elbows, sticking her legs out from under her. Nox is watching me with intent curiosity while Furry seems equally confused. Tenors not exactly listening; he spaces out almost as much as Nox.**

 **"This isn't exactly the prime comfortable experience," Lyre says." Two years ago this was a room full of pillows and couches like dorm-rooms. Now it's this," she adds thoughtfully. It had been, I recall. The day it changed was the day that house intermixing was frowned upon by the ministry. You'd think after the war people would try and get along more with others rather than section off and ignore one another, but no. People seemed to think if they stayed in their own section no fights or battles would break out therefore preventing another war. Every person seemed to have someone to blame for the war, the funny thing was that person was hardly Voldemort.**

 **"Maybe it's confused, there's no war coming, that already ended," Ray says, shrugging without really caring. I look at Deck; he's looking back in the way that burns into me like fire. It's different from how he looks at Wicca or Ray or Monarch, even more different then how he looks at Lyre. It's not full of humor and fondness but fierce protection. I stare back, knowing my eyes bare almost all. Almost. He knows something; I'm sure he does, but I won't make him finding solid ground easy.**

 **"Strange things have been happening," Deck says in a manner that means follow.**

 **"Like Trelawny dying," I say. No one quite believed her but I was fond of her. I saw my mother in her, the mother I used to have before the pills and the ER trips. Not the monster I live with now.**

 **"And last year the Ministry tried to push a bill for no unblood matched marriages," Lyre says. I remembered that as well. Pure bloods with only pure, half with only half, and mudblood with only mudblood. It was foolish and hadn't passed, but it almost did. After the war people changed, became more spiteful and less open. Slytherin especially had a terrible reputation; people thought every Slytherin was a follower of Voldemort and still sought to take over the world. Ridiculous, I know, but not everyone knows how to not hold a stereotyped grudge, especially when it's majority opinion.**

 **My conclusion about war is this: it isn't something heroic that should be encouraged as the first out to a problem. War is broken itself therefore splinters all who enter. The weight of it's strong enough to kill thousands in a way the physical battle hadn't managed. In war there are no victors and no peace even once the blood has been washed away and the weapons disarmed. It leaves nothing but sobbing parents who have lost a child, a woeful partner who lost the love of their life, a screaming friend whose lost their other half, a baby who will never know the sound of their parents voices or the touch of their skin, and nameless graves with only a number pressed carelessly in black into a standard wooden box.**

 **War smiles menacingly upon all parties, reaching out with greedy hands to pluck those of it's liking, mostly those with so much to live for and to love. War doesn't care who you are when it delivers you to deaths doorstep and abandons you there.**

 **I glance up into the mirror of the ceiling, taking in the huddled forms of black all around me; my friends, those I'd do anything for. The people that make me brave and courageous just by being near me. Suddenly, in a hardly visible way, a spider web thin crack breaks against the glass, starting from me and ending at Deck. The line spreads until all forms are misshapen; spliced open by a crack on the ceiling. Separated.**


	3. Finding Courage

**"I don't understand these stupid potion ingredients! What's that word?" I lean over Wicca, frowning at her parchment copy. We're currently mixing a 'love' potion, which I find rather humorous on the third day of school.**

 **"Ashwinder Eggs," I say a bit shakily, squinting a few times. Our copy is old and tattered, written in chicken scrawl writing fit for a doctor. Wicca pops her lips and wrinkles her nose at the potion.**

 **"You sure?"**

 **"Pretty sure," I reply, handing her what I suppose is Ashwinder eggs. She shrugs haphazardly, not particularly caring if I'm wrong or right and dumps them in. Nox wonders over to our station, peering into both of our cauldrons.**

 **"Mine does not look like that," he says, glancing back at his own worriedly. I stir mine, mixing in the powdered moonstone; my last ingredient. It gurgles and puffs, blowing a pink kiss upwards. I smile in relief.**

 **"Damn it! Mine doesn't do that. Help?" Wicca asks, pouting into her mixture. I lean closer, sniffing slightly and catching the scent. Nox watches me wearily.**

 **"More peppermint," I advise, watching as she does so. Slughorn waltzes by us as we finish up, peeking into both our cauldrons. Nox makes a face and dashes to fix his where he's set up with a Slytherin friend of his, Ging.**

 **"Wonderful ladies, simply wonderful!" He says, patting us both on the back as he passes. We exchange a look of pure relief and sigh, putting our ingredients away. Once back at our stations we plop down into our lab tables' stools, exchanging a look.**

 **"Don't say it, "I beg.**

 **"I bet you could use it on Deck and he'd be all over you," she coos, smiling widely at me. I snort, tracing the curve of my wand handle in my lap. My eyes stray to the mixture, bubbling and swirling with desire and want. The pit of my stomach twists agonizingly knowing that could be what it takes to win his affection. I'd never do it.**

 **"I don't think I could do that to a person, you know? It's like altering their mind and replacing their views with your own. Seems wrong to me, "I reply, eyes blinking from the mixture to her mint colored gaze.**

 **"Well you wouldn't be alerting it… you'd be waking it up..." Wicca says with a bright smile and meaningful eyes. I roll my eyes fondly, fiddling with our text book we share due to a shortage. Our class was rather small but for some reason we always managed to be one or two short.**

 **"Well what about you and Joker? You could give him some," I suggest, wiggling my brow. She laughs, a tinkling sound that reminds me of bells and looks at me dubiously, brow raised and lips pursed at an angle.**

 **"I don't think an owl could keep it good that long," she points out. I shrug as though I've hardly given it thought, even though I really haven't. Joker lives in the muggle world and knows about Wicca being a witch. They've been off and on for ages now. Currently they're off, but I have a feeling that could change soon. I hope she finds someone worth her affection if Joker and her don't work out; there's not a kinder soul I know than Wicca.**

 **"Probably not. I don't think you'd need it anyway," I say, wiggling my brow suggestively at her. She groans and plops her head on the desk, rolling it slightly and muttering 'ow'.**

 **"That looked painful," I comment, smiling slightly when she glares at me heatlessly. She peers through the room; I follow her gaze and watch Nox getting scolded by Slughorn.**

 **"I bet he'll say something," Wicca says absently, still gazing at Nox and Slughorn with a slightly cocked head. I watch her with inquiry, raising my brow. She looks at me and smiles adoringly; I make a face.**

 **"Deck, I mean," she amends, watching me. Slughorn announces class is dismissed and we collect our things; I still watch her as Nox walks beside us.**

 **"So I failed," Nox says, plump lips drawn tight.**

 **"Was that why he was lecturing you?" I ask, eyes lingering on Wicca. She walks along happily, books held up in her arms. Monarch swings into our group.**

 **"Who lectured who?" She asks.**

 **"Slughorn lectured me cause I kinda failed at the love potion."**

 **"Oh fun."**

 **"Not really. I think I forgot the moonstone stuff," he says. A ravenclaw bristles past us, dark hair billowing behind her. I figure it's probably a first year due to her small frame swamped by her dress robes. Speaking of, I have yet to see my sister today.**

 **"Here's my stop guys, try not to kill anyone," I say with a wink as I curl myself around the door handle. Wicca wiggles her brow at me in a way that was not at all subtle.**

 **"Good luck," Monarch says with a pursed lipped-trying not to smile- sort of look as she and Wicca branch off to go to Muggle Studies while Nox finds Furry and sidles next to him. I watch them fondly before entering with a pile of my classmates.**

 **I shuffle through the bodies, catching flashes of red, green, blue, and yellow as I do. Decks eyes are the first thing I see; sharp and wondering, looking. I slide in next to him at the desk he's perched atop; grinning widely.**

 **"Saving the seat for someone?"**

 **"Well yeah, you," he snorts in reply, eyeing me with a hint of humor. I nearly jolt with shock, though we are close he doesn't usually go to this extent. I let the possible opening roll over me like a tide, washing away my misgivings as I unblinkingly take the offered seat. He snatches my white quill and twirls it between his fingers, watching me out of the corner of his eye.**

 **"How was potions?" He asks, nearly catching me off guard. I'm usually the bold one to dive into conversation first. Unblinkingly I meet his gaze.**

 **"I did fine, helped Wicca with hers once I finished. Nox got in trouble."**

 **"What'd he forget this time?" I smile.**

 **"The dusted moonstone," I say, watching as his forehead crinkles and his eyes narrow. His pale skin almost seems transparent against his blazing, dark eyes and black clothes, save his green tie.**

 **"That was the first ingredient on the list!" I laugh at his face, that of comic confusion and fondness for Nox. Or maybe not Nox.**

 **"I know. I'm sure he just... Didn't read it right?" I offer, knowing we both well knew Nox wasn't very good at paying attention to detail. We weren't sure yet if he honestly was oblivious or purposely zoning things out, but I'm betting on the later.**

 **"Children! Take your seats. This may be the second day back but we have pleeentyyy to do," a chipper woman, tall with short blonde hair even shorter in the back says as she strides into the classroom. She collects her robes about herself and skims around, scanning the room as everyone does as she directed.**

 **"Alright. My name, as most of you know, is Professor Ocean and I am your defense against the dark arts teacher. Five years in a row, feelin' pretty lucky," she says, smiling in a comical way. She glances at me and winks; back when I went to Muggle School she was my English teacher before accepting this job. I couldn't have been happier she would be there with me until I graduated and then for my sister after I.**

 **"It's a new year; we wanna start out simple, yeah? No hard work on a Friday people, I am not ready for it," she says, waving her wand with a look matching her voice, something so explicitly Professor Ocean I couldn't describe it even if I tried.**

 **With the wave of her wand she lays out a list of spells on everyone's desk. Deck and I scan through them, glancing at one another when the three unforgivable curses blotch our field of sight. He peers at me and I shake my head, glancing towards Professor Ocean questioningly.**

 **"Don't worry, we're starting off with something fun; expecto patronum. Patronuses! Yeah!" Her false, not entirely fake enthusiasm reaches her eyes as she casts her own patronus; a pouncing rabbit. It swirls around the room, sweeping over all our desks and landing at her side. My eyes can't tear themselves away from the silvery, blue protection and the way it moves and shimmers against the light. I wonder what mine will be. I have a fair idea of what Monarchs would be, or Lyres. Funny part is, I don't expect the obvious to be a butterfly.**

 **"So everyone, on your feet. Practice saying the spell five times with someone." Most of the class groans, but does so anyway. Deck and I exchange a look of thick doubt, repeating the words in a monotone equal to those around us. The twitch of a smile at the corner of our lips is the only giveaway at our utter excitement. Or, rather, my excitement and Deck's amusement.**

 **Professor Ocean remains unphased by our lack of outward enthusiasm and sweeps through the room. I can still see the happy memories clouding her gaze; I like to think some are with her boyfriend, Professor Coffee who teaches muggle and wizard history here. "I want you to think of the happiest thing you've ever felt. It could be eating a candy bar or hanging out with your buddies but something happy. If it doesn't work; try again. Then say the spell," she explains, stepping back and eyeing a few she knew would struggle slightly. Deck raises his brow at me and curls his fingers around his long wand. He looks me square in the eye, deeply and full of intent. With a shaky intake of breath he raises his wand and allows a trickle of blue mist to shine from the tip. His eyes harden; burning into mine as he pushes foreword on his magic; his lips tilt in a slant wards smile as the spell drops from his mouth.**

 **At first all I see is a wisp of feathers and the brush of air but once my eyes focus I am amazed. We worked on this some last year but never quite produced one our own. Deck laughs happily, guiding his falcon around with the tip of his wand, swirling it and twining it with others. The patronus brushes against me with its wing and circles around my head. I smile widely and reach for it but the moment I do I notice Deck has yet to take his eyes off me. I meet his gaze and glance at the falcon, then return to his eyes.**

 **"Well done," I murmur so softly I'm not convinced he heard me at first. Judging by the slight nod my direction, he did. Professor Ocean patters by as the falcon grows stronger and soars above the room with those beginning to fade.**

 **"Deck that is an awesome patronus, and you got it quickly, nice job. Alright," she takes a step away from us so she isn't screaming in our ears and shouts at the room at large. "Next persons up. Think happy, puppies and chocolate, or cats. I like cats."**

 **Decks falcon takes one final swirl around us then disintegrates in a flash of mist and spark of light. He jolts a bit as it fades and looks to me. I breathe in deeply, bubbling memories of my sister to the surface, playing with her, laughing as she tried to levitate things while being unable to completely control the item at a very young age. My wand sparks and a ghost of a tendril leaks but otherwise; nothing. Deck watches me with worry; eyes there rather for support then scrutiny. I peer into them and think of the night Wicca, Lyre, Monarch, Ray, and I all went to Honeydukes, nothing.**

 **My mind strays to first year, standing near the thin line with Deck and Wicca; both anxious and searching for a friend. Wicca had been kind, energetic and pulled me to her side right away; something I've never taken the time to thank her for doing. Deck's eyes were the same now as then but they were softer and less expectant of the world. Days, minutes, ages spent near him surge past me, throwing me into times of play wrestling and stumbling around together in the Room of Requirement. Without knowing I stare at Deck and screw up my face in determination, breathing in a memory of him hugging me and my sister tightly in his arms, then just me as Shy drug Olive off. His hands at the small of my back, his jacket wrapped around my body like his limbs but less permanent, less possessing. His eyes gaze into mine, past and present, as my sister's, Wicca's, Lyres, and Ray's voices float into my head.**

 **"Expecto Patronum."**

 **Mist at the tip of my wand explodes into a roaring figure, bursting from the wood and stalking around the room. It's larger body mass pads around me and sprints over to Deck, circling and shaking it's head at him. I grin, remembering the way Deck and I had danced at Yule and the hasty, but thrilling, preparations with my friends and the letter I received from my sister that night. How I had curled Wicca's hair and allowed Monarch's sister to do my make up; how full it made me feel. My patronus coagulates and steadies its streams; a silver bear now runs about the room, shoulders tight but jaws slack.**

 **Its presence is massive and voluminous; taking up more space then others did. Some of my classmates lower their wands and gaze at my bear; eyes wide in fear and wonder. Decks smiling at me in a rare way: proud and open. I smile back; something inside me bursts like a damn finally cracking open and allowing all the water it's held steady for so long pour out and into the land bellow.**

 **My bear sweeps around my feet, circling my like a mother would its cub. Deck notices the shift within me, I can tell by the wonder in his eyes and inquiry tilting his brow up, and I let myself hope that maybe it broke in him too.**

 **The energy in me dwindles and I'm forced to call my protector back within me. I watch it dance as silver mist until it is no more, then I look to Professor Ocean.**

 **Her brows are up to her hairline it seems, brown eyes blinking. After a moment or two she motions for us to return to our seats, gaze still slightly unfocused. "Alright everyone, I want every single one of you to be able to produce something Monday, otherwise you have no homework have a good day and weekend," Professor Ocean says as class is dismissed.**

 **Deck and I walk side by side to the dining hall. Something's weighing on him, I can see it in the slope of his shoulders and tilt of his brow, but I don't comment. I wait until he finds his voice.**

 **"Your patronus was huge," he says, watching me wearily. I squint slightly, holding my books a bit tighter against my chest. I don't miss the fraction of a tilt my body automatically makes in response to him swerving in the crowd.**

 **"Thanks, I think."**

 **"So what did you think about then, to get such a big result?" You. The word weighs heavily on my tongue; I can taste it rounding in my mouth. He watches me expectantly with his brow raised; I swallow thickly.**

 **"Is it honesty you seek or self satisfaction?" I find myself asking, bold colors shinning through. Deck seems taken aback; he watches me for a long, hard moment and pulls me aside.**

 **"What-"**

 **"Oh come off it Deck. You know damn well what I meant just like you know damn well what I was thinking of, maybe not specifics but you've got the idea." He blinks at me, eyes checking me for cracks. He doesn't see the thousands already beginning to leak and widen.**

 **"Me?"**

 **"No the Hogwarts theme song," I say sarcastically, glaring at him dubiously. Decks dark eyes narrow slightly, I sigh.**

 **"Look, Deck, if you want to keep pretending there's nothing here, no connection of some sort between us, that's fine. When you want to stop playing pretend find me because I can't take anymore false hope from you," I say.**

 **"What false hope?"**

 **"You know for a borderline genius you're pretty oblivious if you don't know what I'm saying."**

 **"Then explain so I won't be." My throat swells with words clawing to exit, my hands burn, and my eyes ache. I shake my head, quickly glancing out of our corner. Deck drags me back with a soft, but firm grip on my shoulder. I shake him off.**

 **"Like that. Little touches that last too long and gazes that never cease. Like how you act like we're a thing but never do anything about it. Like how I know I care but I'm not sure you do," I say, catching Lyre's arm as she swoops past me. I lean on her more heavily than I ever had before, listening to her fretting and negative comments about half the people we're forced to be around.**

 **I didn't miss the ache in his eyes when I turn around, just like I'm sure he didn't miss the same feeling in my own.**

 **Courage, I think, sometimes is having to throw in the towel and walk away when you know there's nothing left for you to say.**


	4. Pushing aside my own issues

**It's awkward, and awful, but I manage to avoid Deck the rest of the day. When around each other he wouldn't try to reach out physically but search for my eyes to meet his own. I kept mine glued to the professor or to our assignment.**

 **Tenor knew something was up the moment I slid into the dining hall seat. He'd knit his brow and nudged me with his foot; I smiled and ruffled Furry's hair as he talked about his animated animals project. He asked me if I produced a patronus and my throat burnt a little as I told him it was a bear.**

 **"Mine was a panther," he replied, bright eyes flickering between Tenor and I. Tenor mouthed 'momma bear' but I shook my head, attempting a chipper tone as I asked Nox what his patronus was. He said he'd been unable to make much more then steam but Tenors was a Nightingale.**

 **Tenor nagged me all through lunch and I ended up leaving early, snatching Chief as I did so to drag him outside. He watched me with bright confusion in his crystal blue eyes as we trudged along. I didn't stop dragging him by the collar of his sleeve until we were safely out of earshot of passerby's; where we stand now.**

 **"You okay?" He asks immediately, quickly looking me up and down for injury. I shuffle my feet, plopping down on the warm, stone seat. He joins me and turns his thin body my direction.**

 **"We did patronuses earlier."**

 **"Oh cool, what was yours?"**

 **"A bear," I say, smiling slightly as he watches me appraisingly. Faintly I recall his being a raven.**

 **"Momma bear."**

 **"Right?" I ask with a small chuckle, folding my hands in my lap. Chief watches me with a slightly knit brow and brushes his long hair from his face like delicate women in grey tented movies do.**

 **"What happened? Was it Deck?" I almost snort; it's ridiculous after all my life's contained a simple boy can bring me to my knees. I've endured far worse than heartache yet this I can't shake. Opening my mouth isn't the hard part; never was. Letting the words come out with conviction and heart is.**

 **"Me and my big Gryffindor mouth," I say. He nods encouragingly when I halt. "From the beginning? Well. We were in DADA and he starts to try a patronus. He stared at me the entire time and well.. When I made mine, it was to thoughts of him, and he knew it. He asked me about it and I told him if he wanted to stop pretending we had nothing then go ahead but I'd be here when he wanted to stop."**

 **"I think he cares he's just... Not good about showing it. His family is straight up Slytherin with a bit of Ravenclaw. Maybe he's protecting you."**

 **"From what?" I ask in exasperation. Chief purses his lips and runs long, dexterous fingers up the veins bluing his thin skin. I follow the path with my eyes and calm the raging storm within me, scolding myself for acting childish.**

 **"Well, he's Slytherin, you're a Gryffindor."**

 **"So?"**

 **"So his family isn't exactly fond of Gryffindors and you're one. Maybe he doesn't want his family to make your life a living hell," Chief suggests with a shrug. My lower lip catches between my teeth, mind wondering. He and I spoke of his family when we were younger, after I'd opened up about mine. He became fiercely protective of my sister as well as myself after he learned why I flinched when the person next to me raised their hand to answer a question. We both had problems within our family. All of us do, in varying levels, but that's what I think originally banded us together. Broken puzzles accidentally picking up other peoples pieces and fitting them to their own.**

 **"I don't care what his family thinks."**

 **"Think about it though. You won't let any of us meet your mom."**

 **"That's different." I say hastily, fingers automatically touching my throat as if to thoughtlessly but mechanically search for bruises. Excuses bubble to my throat, ones I repeated as a mantra throughout my childhood. I fell off my bike. It was an accident. Slipped in the kitchen on the wet floor. Tripped down the stairs. Mom's just tired, don't worry about her. No that's not beer that's a bunch of empty soda bottles. I'm not hurt, no that wasn't a limp, I just stumbled. It was my fault I got hurt, really I am very clumsy.**

 **It is different. It's not that I don't want her to affect them; it's that I don't want to affect them. I can't let them see me like that; subservient and cautious, so different from the Rieki they know. My bravery, courage, and my personality all drains out of my body when I'm with her, leaving me just an empty sack floating in the wind.**

 **Chief watches me, placing his cold fingers over my own. His hand reminds me of Decks, or Wicca's when her lymph-nodes are acting up and making her nerves go screwy, and my mind surges back to the present.**

 **"He wants to protect you from his family like you protect us from her. Try to not think about it, let things happen. It'll roll out eventually."**

 **"Sorta hard," I say with a little smile. He flails his arms in a spastic manor to make me laugh; I do so. Chief nudges me on the shoulder and pulls out a piece of chocolate from his pocket, plopping it in my hand. My fingers scratch against the tinfoil wrapping.**

 **"And stop feeling like a wimp. Is okey to feel." My brows almost raise but the smile stretches on my lips before it could. I do feel that way; he knows I do whenever I have a slight problem. I could point to any random limb or patch of skin and give you an injury or a horror story of a night filled with imprinted pain, tight, unforgiving fists, traitorous blood that leaks even if you tell your skin it must hold up, and silent screams swallowed by alcohol, but despite all that the little things still affect me. I still feel every slight rejection as sharply and deeply as a knife wound, those I loves especially.**

 **It's not okay for me.**

 **I almost say it, I really do, but I know I can't. I know he understands, his father tended to be 'loose fisted' as we say, but he never had to raise a child. Never had to shelter her from the horror and keep her straight while he limped up the sidewalk. He had a mother for that.**

 **I didn't. I was, and am, the only mother my sister properly knows. I woke her up in the mornings, fed her breakfast of whatever I scrounged up in our usually barren kitchen, did her hair, fought with her over her choice of outfit, played with her, cleaned the house, cooked lunch and supper, a time when my mother, if she was even present, would crawl out of bed and slur her way through the meal. Then at bedtime I'd read her stories, mainly The Old Witch and the Crow, and sing to her in Spanish or English depending on what song she asked for. Her favorite always was you are my sunshine. Then, when I was sure she was fast asleep, I'd slither to my sleeping quarters and try to dodge my mother. Most times I failed. Every time I failed I stumbled away with too many bruises to count, the smell of beer in my nose, and occasionally wetness of blood against my skin.**

 **So, as if falling back into old patterns, I smile and thank him with a hug. His girlfriend joins him, shifting uncomfortably at the sight of me, so I excuse myself and rush to the library. Books have always calmed me down, given me stable ground to stumble over with a less then stable form.**

 **Monarch finds me curled up with a book in my lap and a frown so deeply set it nearly knits my eyebrows into a uni-brow. She places her hands on her hips and looks me up and down. I peer at her over the book and pretend I'm reading.**

 **"I know you aren't reading."**

 **"Am too."**

 **"If you were actually reading you'd have turned the page by now."**

 **"You give me too much credit," I mumble, turning the page just to spite her. She rolls her bright blue eyes rimmed in sea green and plops down next to me. I scoot to accommodate her small frame and give her leg room. She greedily stretches out. I glance at her pointedly before turning the page again.**

 **"Bet you can't tell me what happened in those pages you read."**

 **"Can too."**

 **"Then do it woman."**

 **"Anna told the courtroom that her sister wanted to die and it was her entire purpose for filling the law suit was for her sister AND her lawyer had an epileptic seizure." Monarch snatches the book to verify this. Once she has she tosses the book at me and grumbles heatlessly. I notice the frown in her brow and trouble swimming in her eyes.**

 **"What's wrong?" I ask. Not out of habit, not to distract myself, not even because I want to seem concerned. I am concerned. Her well being goes above mine; all my friends' do. I listen to her rant and rave about her boyfriend, how now that he's graduated she misses him and doesn't think it'll last. I reassure her that time is the best test giver and if things don't work out, then that's not where her future was meant to be.**

 **It's a crackpot answer, I know it is. As much as I hate preaching cliche's they do have merit. Even if I don't always believe in them, I can still hope they'll magically work for my loved ones.**

 **She argues that she loves him and can't let him go even if he let's go first.**

 **I stare at her blankly and tell her this: sometimes the person we love isn't the person we deserve. Sometimes love isn't enough.**

 **When she looks at me her eyes tear up like a storm above a sea. I fold her into my arms and tell her everything will work itself out in time; that love is strong and could be strong enough to fill in the gaps missing. That, if one tries, they can overcome any obstacle.**

 **I don't believe that.**

 **I hand her the chocolate Chief gave me and smile at her encouragingly as she chews it. Her eyes brighten a little after she swallows. "You're really a lifesaver, you know that?"**

 **I nod again and smile.**

 **But the thing is? I don't believe that either.**


	5. Learning to Let Go

**"WAKE UP IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY!" I groan, battling away the freezing, groping hands with a soft throw pillow. When they become more insistent I roll over and curse into my pillow.**

 **"Sleep."**

 **"Birthday."**

 **"Wake me on the next one,"I grumble, reaching behind me to shoo Wicca away. She whines and shoves me over onto my back. I squeeze my eyes shut when I feel her weight dip down the bed, then press into my thighs.**

 **"Gerroff me!"**

 **"Not until you get up."**

 **"Well I can't with you on me," I scold, peering one eye at her. She smiles triumphantly and pulls her legs about her in a criss-cross fashion. After waiting a few moments I'm sure that no, she will not be moved and yes, I must get up at some point. Begrudgingly, in a very vocal way, I surge foreword and pry open my eyes. Wicca grins, gripping my arms and yanking me from bed.**

 **Yawning, I blearily rub at my eyes and run my fingers through my ratty, curly hair. I nearly cringe when I pull my hand out from the tangled mess and accept the brush Wicca hands me. She waltzes around the room, peering up at the royal red and glimmering gold. I realize as of today, I can use magic outside of school, and to celebrate I apply my make up with it, rather then manually apply it as I usually do. "So different from mine," Wicca observes, intently tracing the patterns of my walls and room items.**

 **"Well dungeons do tend to be a bit more... Dank and dreary," I reply as I yank my jeans over my legs. Wicca shakes her head and points to a different pair; one with gem encrusted back pockets and fading color. With a resigned, drawn out sigh I switch jeans and hold up a white, see through top that hangs a little low. She throws me a tan tank top to wear under it and plops on my bed.**

 **"You could make that while you're over there," I suggest as I settle my hair into place. Wicca snorts and flaps her arms against the bedspread like a bird. She doesn't mention the aged bruises coloring my skin. She doesn't have to.**

 **"I could but na," she says with a shit eating smile as she curls up against my covers and sighs happily. I roll my eyes fondly and hold out my arms for approval. Wicca bolts off the bed and peers at me before looping a silver necklace with white pearl in the center around my neck. I finger it awkwardly and push my hair back in the mirror.**

 **"What's this?"**

 **"What?" I ask, spinning around to face where Wicca stands above my jewelry box which, more or less, is rather a disappointment to jewelry boxes everywhere. I only have three necklaces, one of which I always wear.**

 **Wicca walks closer to me and steers my head to a bare surface adjacent to my pale cream and lavender jewelry box. I peer at it, noticing the strange, long, smooth shape. For a moment it looks like a quill and I remember quickly that none of my quills are thin like this.**

 **It takes but a moment for me to cross the floor and take it in my palm. It's a feather, shiny and smooth, round along all edges. My fingers tremble a little when I clasp it between my thumb and forefinger. "It's a feather."**

 **"No duh. I mean what kind."**

 **"I dunno. It's probably off of Flexura's outfit or something, she has a long shawl with feathers," I lie though I know exactly what kind of feather it is. I tuck it into my pocket and turn to Wicca, whose pondering, probably who 'Flexura' is.**

 **"My roommate."**

 **"Real pretty hair? Tall?" I nod, shoving my hand, with the feather, in my pocket and brush off her inquisitive eye brow raise. "Where are they?"**

 **"Well Flexura had a date, Prim's sending an owl to her boyfriend, and I guess Equestrian went out," I answer, glancing around at the four poster beds ranging from neatly made to a jumbled, tangled mess as Wicca drives me from the room. I dig my heels in a little and Wicca glares at me. Eventually we stumble down to my common room laughing and tripping over each other. Tenor and Lyre await looking slightly cross at one another. Tenor runs for me and wraps his limbs around my body in a 'Spider-man hug'. I awkwardly flail to clasp onto him but stumble too much and he ends up plopping on the ground with a very dignified 'oof'.**

 **Lyre approaches me and pauses to whack him on the back of the head. He glares at her and scrambles to his feet. I laugh at the two as Wicca smiles widely and pulls my arm down tightly. "Happy birthday!" Lyre says with a bright smirk on her face. I half hug her and smile under my breath.**

 **"Thanks man."**

 **"So, ready for your birthday adventure?" Lyre asks, hands flapping at her side.**

 **"Of course. Lead on."**

 **The adventure is a quick trip to Honeydukes, the entire time I stand outside in the chilly Autumn air and kick leaves back and forth between Lyre and I while Tenor and Wicca go in and return with filled pockets. Afterwards we all scuttle down to the Room of Requirement. The paintings we pass wish me a merry birthday and, you can guess who does what I'm sure, either tell me to let loose and do whatever I see pleasing or advise me about the responsibility this new year loads onto my shoulders.**

 **Funny thing is I've always had it there. I'm just good at hiding it.**

 **It's almost as natural as hiding bruises and sprained ankles and wrists. My mother's approach wasn't breaking bones but will. She'd attack everything with equal force and if I happened to break something, like my wrist all those years ago, well then that just meant harder and longer fights for me. I suppose it almost, in a comical but very wrong way, helped toughen me up for Quidditch.**

 **Lyre notices my face and nudges at me as we wonder through the passages. I quirk my lips and run my fingers around my wrist; she seizes it and draws a butterfly on it in sharpie. I smile right as Tenor opens the door. She and I don't need words to communicate. The way we speak is easy and comfortable no matter how it's spoken or acted. She's easily my most sympathetic friend and always tries to understand my emotions even if I don't understand them myself.**

 **"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" My sister squeals as she lurches herself into my arms. I laugh and wrap her up in my embrace, squeeze her tightly, and press a kiss to the crown of her head. She snuggles close then yanks back to look me in the eyes. I ruffle her hair and spin her off the ground and into the room with me.**

 **"Thanks sweetie. How's school so far?" I ask eagerly as she squirms from my arms. I can see the rest of my housemates and Nox's Slytherin girlfriend Whiskey, Monarch, and Ray and Dick behind her. Monarch sees Wicca and beelines straight for her. Deck's nowhere in sight.**

 **Figures.**

 **"I LOVE it ohmygosh the stairs MOVE! You never mentioned that! Theseus and I got so lost the first day, that's why I couldn't find you. I missed you." I laugh and nudge her with my nose, noticing Theseus and Shy have entered the room with Deck and Chief. Chief doesn't stop glaring at Deck until Tenor drags Chief away and Nox talks to Deck.**

 **Great. Just great.**

 **"I missed you too kiddo," I say as I squash her against my side. She play fights with me but ends up wrapping her arms around me in return for a moment before bursting off to go talk to Theseus. Deck and I accidentally make eye contact as I watch my sister go; I tear my gaze away and cough, walking up to a well decorated table with Lyre.**

 **"That cake is boss. Who made it?" I ask. The cake has two layers and is covered in Hogwarts emblems and house names and their mascots. Lyre smiles in a false enthusiasm sort of way and juts her thumb out at herself.**

 **"That would be me. Happy Birthday, you boob."**

 **"I have one of those," I say as customary response. Lyre bursts put laughter like a damn breaking and releasing an ocean of water. I smile and hug her, though I know she mostly hates them, and she hugs me back tightly. Chief walks over to us and hugs me tightly; I refuse to allow his awkwardly tall height and lanky figure to make my embrace less than adequate.**

 **"Happeh birthday," he says with a little smile. I grin and lean against him slightly. Between two people who I so easily confide in my anxiety about Deck eases and my mind clears a bit. Chief and Lyre start talking about the schools Wi-Fi and I detach to go and greet Ray and Dick.**

 **"Heeeyyyyyy," Ray says as I near. She bumps me with her hips and wraps her arms around me from behind. I chuckle fondly at her and smile at Dick. Thankfully they picked today to get along with each other.**

 **"She's mine," Ray says, firmly grasping my waist.**

 **"Hm. Okay. Hey Deck, you're forever mine, kay bud?" He shouts over her head. I blink furiously but refuse to glance backwards when I hear Deck reply a very question filled agreement. I feel Ray tighten her arms around me a fraction, a question. I answer with a slight shrug and slip from her arms. She winks at me and I grin when they walk to the table and find seats. Everyone does so; I manage to be between Wicca and Olive. Deck is directly across the table from me; I avoid his gaze.**

 **The cake tastes amazing; chocolate fudge icing with a marble center and marshmallow fond-on pictures. My sister loves fond-on just as much as I do so I'm sure to give her at least half mine. When Wicca spills her water I mop it up with a jacket Nox brought for me, one I previously left in the common room.**

 **"Mom," she says happily. I sigh and nod, faking enthusiasm at the term. Love hate. Bittersweet.**

 **"Rieki, you never told me your patronesss!" My sister says from next to me, olive eyes wide and ecstatic. Eleven years fly by me when I gaze into her eyes; I remember tears leaking down those cheeks and anger blotching them red. I remember happiness and curiosity; how she knits her brow as I do and tilts her head. I remember fear when I'd curl her into my lap after a fight with mom and rock her back to sleep. I remember her asking me to sing even though my voice has never been quite on pitch.**

 **I remember the one constant thing in my life since it's birth, other then friends.**

 **"It was a bear," I tell her, fondly pushing her hair from her face. She makes a face at me, spread lips, wide eyes, and cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk. I restrain myself from patting her cheeks and laugh when Theseus leans over and pushes the air from her cheeks.**

 **"Like no one saw that coming," Lyre says with a smirk. I shrug and fork around my cake, pulling it apart and separating it to make it appear as though I've eaten more then I actually have. Wicca notices and subtly pushes the food back together in the center of my plate.**

 **"It is your spirit animal," Olive adds.**

 **"And you're a bear to wake up," Wicca says with a leering grin. Ray laughs the way she always does and Dick lights up at her smile. I may not be fond of him but at times he's alright, the kind way he reacts to her. Chief mentions the time I got so frustrated I rolled to the floor and curled around his ankles to avoid being woken. Everyone laughs a little, even Deck. He knows I hate getting up, but then again, everyone does. We all once went on a road trip to Universal Studios in America and the first night down I curled under his seat to sleep. His hand kept falling over and brushing against my hand or shoulder or hair but I always pushed it back. Being the last one to sleep usually means being the crabbiest one to wake. Lyre was probably the second worst to wake up; you can guess who got that job. I enjoyed it though; it was an excuse to play with her like we were kids, tickle her, roll over her like a steam roller, or poke at her face and pull her cheeks.**

 **"Hey, wake up we're giving you presents," Nox shouts, watching me curiously. His girlfriend smiles widely at me and motions towards a little red bag. From them, I assume.**

 **"Guys," I complain, taking the gifts with a swell of my heart. Chief hands me his and Lyre scuffles; her gift was her cake. If only I could tell them their presence was more then enough of a satisfying gift to me.**

 **Chief drew me Loki; my favorite avenger character. After receiving my gift he left, having made plans with Kortana. Olive got me a glass bear charmed to walk around like a pet. Theseus and Shy chipped in and got me a Slytherin blanket. Wicca got me a necklace with a blue spider on it that matches hers and Monarchs, she gave Monarch hers back on her birthday in July. Nox, well, I suspect Whiskey had more of an influence then he, got me a key chain in the shape of a sonic screwdriver. Furry gave me a stuffed animal, not a bear, but a turtle he had bought himself with his sewing money. Monarchs gift was a book, an old favorite of mine, Lord of the Rings, the first book which I did not personally have. Tenor got me a bunch of candy and a CD I'd been wanting for ages. My smile couldn't have been wider.**

 **"Thanks everyone. They're all amazing." I hug my sister and Wicca close from where we all still sit. One by one I hug everyone and if I happen to 'drop' a few sickles in Furry's pocket well no one said a thing. Wicca poked my spider and grinned as Ray fluffed my hair. They ran off with Dick to go get a table saved at the Three Broomsticks for us all to enjoy lunch at; they left with a clueless Nox in tow who I heard mumbling to Whiskey "whose birthday was it again? I keep forgetting." and smirk. Tenor and Furry are talking to Deck, who I had refused to look at yet. Lyre and the kids are shoving my stuff into my endless bottom bag and laughing at Olive as she smeared icing over her nose. I watch them for awhile, hardly noticing when Furry joins them.**

 **"We're going to talk," Deck says as he rounds the distance from our friends to me. I blink at him dully, face blank and emotionless. He looks at me expectantly and I cross my arms about my stomach.**

 **"I don't do well with demands." Tenor hoots at me suggestively. I ignore him but quirk my lips fondly in his general direction.**

 **"You still talked," he points out, fumbling with a black box in his hands. I refuse to look at it or meet his cool gaze. Rather, I peer at his dark red shirt and notice it's the shirt I favor on him; it broadens out his shoulders and turns the lanky lines of his waist into a fit, and lean shape perfectly proportioned to his shoulders.**

 **"Doesn't count."**

 **"Just talk to me. Please."**

 **"Wow I actually got a please. I'm surprised," I say with a huff. He raises his brows at me and licks over his lips. I pointedly don't look down at his lips like I know he'd angled for.**

 **"Don't be like that."**

 **"Like what?"**

 **"Angry." My cheeks start to redden; eyes widen slightly and sight sharpening. Acting of their own accord my ears move backwards and my hair tumbles down around my face. Words boil beneath my lips, building until they burst.**

 **"Don't be angry? I have EVERY right to be angry! You act like we have nothing when we do and I'm so sick of it. I've played pretend for long enough, either you buck up and stop pulling away or I'm just going to tug the thread myself and unravel the mess we've made. I don't deserve to be played along like this, I have enough uncertainty and rejection in my life, don't you think?" I say in a blurted, heated huff that leaves my ears red at the tip. Deck watches me up and down, taking his time to inspect my body language and sighs. I finally meet his gaze; it's dark with regret and anger and confusion; everything I feel and more. My eyes swell slightly as I watch him watching me. His fingers reach out slightly then curl away as if predicting rejection.**

 **"Man am I just that awful that you have absolutely nothing to say?" I ask crossly. His eyes widen a fraction, unsure he heard right. The hard set of my mouth and firm stance of my legs and hips reinforce my point. Deck fists his hands in his lap.**

 **"It's not you though; there is nothing wrong with you. It's me."**

 **"What novel did you rip that out of?"**

 **"Rieki for the love of God would you just LISTEN to me?" I cross my arms tighter and lean my weight on one hip. With a motion of my hand to continue he begins his geared up speech.**

 **"It's not like I'm purposely trying to hurt you. You're my friend. I don't do well with this form of... Interaction, okay?" I nod, catching my lip between my teeth to hold in my words. "I do care about you. Just as much as you care about me, I think. You're... You're great. You are. I thought when I produced my patronus you'd understand exactly whose face I had in mind." He leans over and pushes the box into my hands. I catch his scent and greedily breathe it in; it's so unique to him, musky but somehow with a tinge of old books. I'll never quite admit it out loud but somehow just his scent calms me and soothes the fringes around my edges.**

 **Before I expect it I feel his cool lips pressed against my brow and his even colder fingers brushing my shoulders. My body jolts in surprise at the gentle caress and cringes away. His fingers tug insistently to keep me there so we're only a breath apart. His eyes dart to my shoulder where he notices a bruise mark beneath my tank top, blueish purple barley peeking out. I shrink away, averting my gaze.**

 **Deck releases one shoulder and tilts my chin up with his chilled hands. Somehow they don't feel strange against my warmed skin, only smooth. "Look at me?" It's a question, not a demand. I do so, still clutching the little black box in my fingers.**

 **"You deserve better than that." He waits for a moment as if considering something and shakes his head a fraction. "And you deserve better than me."**

 **"Deck," I say softly. He sort of smiles at me, a halfhearted attempt. Our eyes connect and I let him in as easily as I draw my next breath and, to my surprise, he lets me in without hesitation or game.**

 **I feel his confusion, how new he is to caring for someone and how hard drilled his family's customs are. I feel his sadness and sorrow, the emptiness that lingers between. Then i feel something light, so warm it burns my skin and so bright and fierce it nearly blinds me. How conflicted and hard pressed he is to swallow how he feels.**

 **I understand.**

 **With a final brush to my forehead he turns and leaves the room. My body follows his hands as they pull away, searching for his embrace. My mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for water. I see Lyre at my side with her arm around my shoulder but I don't feel it. All I feel is the smooth velvet of the black box.**

 **Shakily I pry open the lid. My fingers slip a little when I do; my eyes don't quite believe it. Inside is a necklace, a bear with its head bent. I run my forefinger over the smooth stone; it's silver and I suspect it's one hundred percent real. Next to it with a wing outstretched is a falcon.**

 **I pull the necklace from its box; it clatters down to the floor. My thumb and forefinger press against the clasp. With a force I wasn't aware my fingers grasped I clutch it in my hand, feel the metal heat up against my palm. Lyre pulls me to look at her; I do so distantly. She yanks my wand out of my pocket, places it in my hand, and steers me to the door.**

 **"Go get him," she says. And I do with shaking legs and quivering hope. I don't even think about it when I barrel through the hallway and fly past all my fellow students, I even knock someone's wand from their hands and accio it to me before placing it back in their hands and sprinting to the library.**

 **The moment I reach the library I zip straight back to the 'fantasy' section where I know the comic books lay. He's usually back there, close to the things that make him comfortable, plus it's put off enough to be secluded and private.**

 **"Deck." His name leaves my mouth without my permission. It sounds cold and lonely, hung out on its own. Dark eyes meet mine, I don't lower my gaze.**

 **"Rieki." Have you ever noticed how strange yet exhilarating it is to be called by name? In that moment I know; it's a rush of security and strength from one simple word. I breathe a sigh and hold the necklace a little higher, Deck eyes it.**

 **I take a step closer and so does he. We're close now, the same distance we were earlier ago. The feel of his fingers graze my own; he takes the necklace and unclamps it. "May I?" The question is more then it seems, I can feel its real meaning pulsing against my bones.**

 **I nod.**

 **Decks fingers brush away my hair and loop the chain around my neck. The metal is warm from where I clutched it so desperately between my fingers; it now rests gently over my collar bone. He touches the metal with his fingertips and our eyes meet. I don't look away; I don't even try.**

 **"Happy birthday, Rieki," Deck whispers with a warm smile. I grin back and lean forward; before I'm aware who even initiated it I'm crushed in an embrace so tight I can hardly breathe. When I tuck my head into the crook of his neck he interlaces our fingers together and holds them between our chests.**

 **"Thank you Deck," I say. His arms tighten around me; my mind momentarily worried about confinement but his scent is everywhere around me and I'm calm, soothed by him. With his arms around me I think maybe, just maybe I can find the strength to do the most courageous thing I can think of.**

 **Let go.**


	6. The Price of Freedom

**Ever looked at someone and thought that one, right there, that ones mine and if anyone hurts them well, they might not walk ever again? I find myself doing that a lot these days. I do it to my sister mostly though I know her Slytherin friends would end whoever messed with her before I ever got to her. I do it to Wicca, Lyre, and Deck a lot too, and Ray and Tenor, even Nox and Furry and Chief.**

 **Even now I'm doing it, as I walk with my sister. We're in the common room making circles around the large velvet couch. She cocks her head in a pondering fashion and peers at my necklace, the one Deck gave me, that has been dangling there for four days now.**

 **"Does this mean he's like- my brother in law/father person?" She asks with a slight hump to her voice. I freeze where I'm walking, glancing at her quickly. She smiles broadly and I can't help the laugh that bubbles from my throat and out my lips.**

 **"Because we're together?"**

 **"Duh. You're like my mom and he's cool enough to be dad. I guess." I shake my head and pat her shoulder as we round the couch for another lap. The remnants of my laugh still burn against my throat.**

 **"Call it brother-in-dating," I offer instead, nudging her with my shoulder. She quirks her thin lips to the side in thought then shrugs dismissively.**

 **"So have you kissed?"**

 **"Olive! Intrusive much," I say though I'm not surprised in the slightest. Olive smirks back at me, eyes swimming with mirth and cheeks enlarged by her smile.**

 **"Well you did raise me, what do you expect?" When the words spill from her mouth it brings me pause. I peer at her for a moment and spot all the places she's aged since her birth. How her short black hair grew out into shoulder length golden hair she hardly ever wanted to brush as a baby. How her eyes have pinched in at the ends and remained wide in the center, full of earthy brown and mossy green. How her once chubby torso has stretched upwards as she grew, thinning out to shape a fit, gymnast sort of figure. How her once small, undeveloped legs have elongated and are now thin and shapely like a woman's.**

 **It's almost comical now, seeing how much she's changed. I was with her almost every step of the way and I still can't believe how much she's grown; how much of a person she's developed into. I can't believe I had any hand in raising her, though I know that's what I did. Our mother may have fought me every step of the way but I was sure to keep her unmarked.**

 **Boy am I glad I did.**

 **"To answer your rather nosey question no, we have not kissed."**

 **"Or done it then?" My laughter overwhelms my shock and I end up falling back onto the couch with a giggling Olive in my arms. The muscles in my stomach burn and contract as I laugh; a joyful feeling I haven't felt in years. Our eyes meet and I can't stop laughing.**

 **"You...don't even know...what IT...is," I gasp between rolling laughs. She screws up her face and thinks for a moment. I watch her expectantly as my laughter finally ceases.**

 **"But Cinny said that when couples are together they do 'it'!" She persists. I roll my eyes, of course it was Tenors younger sister. She's three years above Olive and comes from a bit of a perverted family.**

 **"Well you shouldn't give much credit to Cinny for anything she says really."**

 **"But-"**

 **"Not all couples are like that! When you know what it is then we can talk. Until then let's go eat," I suggest, steering her put the door. The painting smiles broadly at me from beside his wife whose hair is blue at the current moment, my favorite color. She's waving at Olive and I; we wave back.**

 **"So how are classes?" I ask, kicking my robes to billow out from where they plaster against my legs. She holds out her hand and peers at it for a moment then glances down at her robe emblem. I follow her line of sight, trying to follow her mind track as well.**

 **"It's all weird."**

 **"Weird?"**

 **"Yeah, weird. Moms not here," she pauses a moment as the stairs switch over. Olives eyes burn into me, searching, wondering around to seek their answer. "I guess she never really was though."**

 **"You know she would be if she could," I say automatically. Though I know it's not true I don't want to mar my mother's reputation to my sister. If I can protect her from it she'll never have to know what happened after she went to sleep or the reason I made her stay with other people while I was gone.**

 **"I know what happened." We've stopped now. We're standing in the middle of the hall with people darting past us. I watch her carefully with a slightly jarred jaw, she makes a face at me.**

 **"I'm not stupid."**

 **"I never said that you were."**

 **"You don't need to lie anymore. I know even you aren't clumsy enough to always have so many bruises." Tears swell behind my eyes but I swallow them away. She tries to smile at me and touches my hand while looking at my shoulder. There's a faded handprint there, light purple and green. It won't join the scars I have littered randomly across my skin like a landmasses on a map, thankfully.**

 **"You know I had a sister once say that it's okay to cry," she offers, smile suddenly sad. I choke on a laugh and peer at her, ignoring the pain in my shoulder when someone sideswipes me. "The funny thing is though I've never actually seen her cry so it's kinda contradictory to her advice. She's like some weirdly awesome kind of super iron maiden."**

 **"Hey, I have feelings," I argue fondly, swallowing my thick sadness and smiling. Olive takes my hand and swings it between us; I notice the little bracelet I gave her when she was born on her wrist. I had strung a bunch of silver moons and gold star beads onto a thick cord and hung it over her crib. I had no idea she still had it.**

 **"You always were too observant for your age."**

 **"Yeah and you've always been too protective."**

 **"Had I not been I assure you you'd currently been stuck in a tree somewhere," I tease, glad the tone took an upward slope. Olive pushes at me as we collect food on our plates before trailing outside to find our friends.**

 **They're all waiting.**

 **"Hey Rieks," Chief says, smile false and spun with more effort than it was worth. I peer at him and flicker my gaze to Deck in inquiry. He's quiet between Tenor and Lyre with parchment pressed between his fingers. Wicca's on her feet and pushing Olive towards Shy and Theseus; they drag her off towards the lake. She takes my plate and sets it down.**

 **"What's going on? You only call me Rieks when something's wrong," I say once Olive is out of earshot. Wicca's hands reach out for me; they take my hand. Hers are freezing where they sandwich my own but I don't jerk away, I never could. Lyres eyes find mine and she glances down at the paper Deck is holding. I tilt my chin up as dread collects in the pit of my stomach; a grueling, twisting mass of angst that won't stop swirling.**

 **"You got a letter," Wicca says. Lyre nudges Deck; he stands stiffly and smoothes the crinkles in the letter. Helena, my owl, often gives my letters to Deck or to Wicca if I'm not around, and usually I'm not. Deck having my letter doesn't surprise me; their attitudes do.**

 **"From my mother?" I ask quickly. She usually sent a howler on my birthday if not to scream at me then to wish me happy birthday with a slur.**

 **"No but... You're close," Deck says as he hands me the letter. I make eye contact with Tenor where he sits by Chief, Nox, Ray, and Furry. He shakes his head and tightens his lips. Monarch pulls her legs into her arms and avoids my gaze.**

 **The letter reads:**

 **To who it may concern,  
A witch by the name of Molly Brink has fallen to her death off the roof of her home. The remains of her body are few but have positively been identified by wand. Foul play is suspected and the matter shall be further pursued. The body will not be released by any means due to its extreme damage and the current case which it involves. Her will has stated her second eldest daughter Rieki Ann Brink shall inherit all of that she possesses. We present our deepest and most sincere apologies.**

 **Minister of magic,  
Regulus Haze**

 **My fingers shake where they clutch the letter. Breathing suddenly feels harder then it ever has and suddenly I'm an infant learning how to draw it's first breath. All my bruises and scars melt against my skin and burn brands against me all their own. Tears pool behind my eyes; I blink them away.**

 **"Rieki?" It's Lyre's voice, I know it is. I peer at her face as she questions my wellbeing. My throat swells and I can't speak, can't breathe. I touch my neck with trembling fingers, the note dropping against the cement. Deck pulls me into an embrace but I can't feel his arms around me nor Wicca's hands in mine. I can't even feel Lyre running her fingers through my hair in reassurance.**

 **I burry myself against Deck and force my air ways to open. My mind immediately strays to Olive and I can't take it, can't hold it back any longer because that woman beat every ounce of myself from my body and drained the smallest puddle of resolve and strength within me but before she became a monster, she was a mother. She was my mother.**

 **Before the pain started becoming ritual there was love and joy. She would cook and dance with us, sing in her pitchy voice that always went too high and play games with us. We'd build impenetrable forts and castles, ruling all the land together as queens.**

 **And then Olive's father left. My older sister, Vernolie, was killed by Olives father in his fleeing attempt. He was a dark wizard that attempted to follow in Voldemorts footsteps but never quite managed. To this day I have no clue where he ended up. After my sister was killed he went to Azkaban, broke out, and we went on the run. Only then did the beatings start. Olive was six. I was eleven.**

 **Tears leak from my eyes and soak Decks jacket, I worry briefly about staining it and move to wrench away but his hold is stable and firm. His arms rub against the center of my back and I feel his chapped lips against my temple. "I'm here," he says softly. I burrow closer and let myself cry, come unraveled in this boys arms surrounded by my friends.**

 **Because my mother is dead and now I am truly, completely alone in this world with no one to even pretend to take care of me. Because now, even though I've been unbreakable for years, I have to become a rock hard force of strength to protect my sister. Because now that I'm free I'm suddenly trapped, confined in ropes I can't escape from. Now there's no hope my family will ever be together again.**

 **Now I have to bear the world on my shoulders and tell my little sister her mother has died.**

 **I'm not sure which one of those thoughts hurts most.**

 **Olive comes back after a few moments and I pull her into my arms. Deck's still wrapped around me, both of us now, and his heart beat gives me stance to build upon. Olive watches me with wide eyes.**

 **"What..."**

 **"She's gone Olive. I'm sorry." Her eyes are empty as they gaze at me; she's hardening. I can feel it beneath my skin that's tightly braced against hers. She breathes deeply, forcing the sadness eating away the calm in her eyes down. Deck puts a hand on her shoulder and squeezes; she turns her empty gaze to him. His fingers press reassuringly against my hip.**

 **"She never really was here to begin with anyway," she says blatantly; thin and restrained.**

 **I know what hurts most now.**


	7. The Attack

**"Rieki."**

 **"What?" I mumble around the quill shoved in my mouth. I'm glaring down at the sketch pad bellow with contact numbers for my mother and deeds to the house/other legal matters that are just plain Greek to me.**

 **"Take a break, please," Deck asks, bony knees bouncing against my thigh. I sigh and spin in my chair so our knees are touching. The feel of his cool hand drumming on my thigh pulls my mind out of the suffocating paperwork and terrifying fact hidden between papers that I am now, in fact, an orphan.**

 **"I've got to get this sorted."**

 **"You're not helping yourself grieve by shoving your face in papers you can hardly understand," Deck points out, motioning to the giant, overwhelming stack before me. It occurs to me he's been sitting, watching me frustratingly attempt to sign papers and decipher them from legal-mumbo-jumbo to English without any negative comment or depleted sigh for over three hours now.**

 **Quirking my lips to the side I look down at the papers scattered around the desk and sigh. Decks hand finds my own and curls our fingers together. I nearly double take at the action. "I'm sorry," I mutter.**

 **"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault." I say nothing in response. His hand tightens around my own and silently asks me to tilt my gaze. I do, carefully. "You know it's not right?"**

 **"Yeah."**

 **"Liar."**

 **"Am not."**

 **"Rieki."**

 **"Deck." Deck glares at me dubiously. I shuffle awkwardly and tuck my hair behind my ear. "Is Olive still with Shy?"**

 **"She's taken care of, don't worry. You just need to relax," he says with a slight smile. He used relaxed purposely, an old and commonly referred to inside joke. One year we kept joking how I needed to write him a book of what not to say to women so, I did. Calm down was the very first thing written in the book; he hasn't used the term since.**

 **"And how do you plan to help me relax?"**

 **"Well Tenor says I should propose. Worked on Rudie like a charm," He says with a slight twitch of his lips. I crack and allow a fond laugh as I pack up. Deck extracts his wand and whisks the papers into a thick binder with a flick of the wrist and smirk. I shove it in my bottomless bag manually and look to him.**

 **"We've known each other for longer than three days though, may not work the same." Deck laughs as he steers me from the library by my shoulders. Tenor knew his current girlfriend three days before he asked her out. They got in an explosive argument that very same day so his thoughts were to propose and make everything magically patched up. There's a reason my housemate didn't get Ravenclaw.**

 **"And we're not fighting."**

 **"Touché." Decks hands slip from my shoulders to hover around my waist. It still surprises me how touchy he can be; he never stroke me as the cuddly type but, amazingly, he's just as affectionate as I am. That or he's just doing so to help me through my mother's death.**

 **"So we're outside," I say once we've exited the castle. Deck grins widely and pulls two brooms from behind a tree, handing one off to me. The wood feels familiar smoothed against my palms and fingers; the feeling is exhilarating. My legs straddle it as my feet lock into place on their holders. Deck's watching me in bemusement, a fond smile playing his lips.**

 **"It's like you never quit."**

 **"Feels like it," I admit. He flawlessly slides on his own and motions towards me. I kick off, hovering briefly until he joins me in the air before bolting upwards through the sky.**

 **Air whips against my thighs and cuts at my face but I don't care. I shoot up and up and up until every person is an ant under my feet; so far and lost. A laugh bubbles from my mouth and suddenly I'm crazed with it, laughing with abandon as Deck and I swoop through puffs of white and seas of blue.**

 **Weight lifts from my heart and fades against the clouds that whisper through my hair. My curls billow out behind me like a cloak, brown against blue and black. My mother, how I'm going to move on, none of that matters up here soaring through the skies. Deck is smiling beside me; I grin back.**

 **"Relaxed?" He shouts as we slow to a leisurely pace. I fiddle with my handle where it's grasped between my palms.**

 **"Actually. I am," I reply. His broom slides over until our thighs touch one another. I roll sideways and knock against him playfully; he back ends me with the butt of his broom.**

 **"Sometimes I wish I never stopped playing Quidditch," I say suddenly. Deck makes a face close to consideration with jutted lips and a drawn brow.**

 **"I'm just glad you're not there to kick my ass anymore. It'd get old getting beat by my girlfriend."**

 **"Not embarrassing?" I ask curiously with a twitched up brow, ignoring the rush of something completely new to my heart at the term 'girlfriend'. He offers me a 'bitch please' look he's picked up from Wicca and nudges my shoulder.**

 **"No. Having a girlfriend whose insanely good at Quidditch that I can hardly beat her? That's something I take proudly," he replys with a teasing smile. Oh. There's that feeling again. As a quick cover I snort and quirk my lips, drawing my own attention to his words. He's exaggerating of course, I wasn't all that great. I was a chaser; he's currently a keeper. Last year we had been exchanging pickup lines punned off Hogwarts such as mine, would you like to Slytherin my Gryfindor? And his: baby, are you a chaser? Because I'm a keeper. That was before my injuries kept me from playing. Over Christmas break I broke my wrist and couldn't use it the same as I had before; ruining my chances of competitive Quidditch. I'm sure you can guess who really broke my wrist.**

 **"I wish that too. Though, I guess you look pretty great in the stands secretly cheering for your rival team."**

 **"Careful Deck-"**

 **"Oh my ego isn't leaking you know I'm right."**

 **"Well yes but that doesn't mean I have to like it," I huff back with a smile. He shoots me a look, one that clearly states he knows I love watching him play Quidditch and there's no right in denying that. Peering over his shoulder I notice the sky has darkened off towards school. The air nips against my bare skin even though we've stopped moving. Rain drizzles down lightly, matting our hair and I cringe a bit knowing my hairs going to curl even wilder than usual. I yank out my wand and perform a dry spell, clearing the wetness from us. My necklace heats up against my chest.**

 **"What's going on down there?" I ask, eyes trained on the school. Deck frowns, extracting his own wand as I lead him down closer. The rain pounds around us furiously now; I keep us dry. The closer we get the more we see the chaos towards the courtyard.**

 **I hear a scream.**

 **Olive.**

 **"Rieki-"**

 **"Olive!" I scream, diving down towards her voice. I can't lose her. She's all I have left.**

 **Now feet from the ground I see students scattering around me. My wand juts out before me as I drive faster, ignoring Decks shouts behind me. Finally, I find Olive. She and Shy are pushed behind Tenor and Lyre who are furiously shoving shields into the darkened air. Black, cloaked figures swirl around them, thrusting colors at Tenor and Lyre as they hurriedly fire back. Olives covering Shy with her body, eyes frantically searching for me.**

 **Wizards are attacking my sister and friends.**

 **"Rieki!" I barrel into a wizard without thought that swoops down for my sister. He shouts and we roll onto the ground, tussling. Red light shines against my eyes but I duck, rolling him down and around. Scrambling to my feet I race for my sister and put my back towards her. Deck joins me and together we form a shell of protection around Olive and Shy.**

 **"Stupefy!" Lyre shouts as she takes one down. I thrust my own spell, knocking one into another from the force. Other voices and wands join our fight and for a moment I think we'll win. That is, until a mans laugh fills the air as the temperature drops.**

 **Dementors.**

 **"Dementors!" I shout in warning, crouching as black figures swim above our heads. One sucks blue from Tenor then Deck; I scream and cast a shield around them. Then I remember. I remember the spell. As one swoops down to take my sister I raise my wand higher.**

 **"Expecto patronum!" I scream, forcing thoughts of flying and Deck and Olive and my friends to course through my mind and fuel my magic. A roaring bear bursts from my wand and attacks the dementors swirling around us with animalistic ferocity. Decks falcon and Tenors nightingale join my bear and together we shove off the Dementors. A man's face swirls past me, just a passing glance, as the darkness disappears. His smile is malicious and his skin is thin and darkly tanned. His eyes, once brown and light, are dim and angry.**

 **Methaine. Olive's father.**

 **My friends begin dropping around me, falling to the grass. I spot a patch of blood around Tenors arm and shout. Olive screams in my ear as I thrust my patronus around us, prowling like the animal it resembles and lunging at our tormentors. My breathing slows as he materializes before me; tall figure cloaked in black.**

 **"Die like your traitorous mother," rips from his voice like a wounded scream. I see a bright stream of green cascading from his wand before I fall to the ground.**

 **Then, nothing.**


	8. The Choice

**Ch.8**

 **There are times in my life that I have wanted to die, I'll admit it. It's a human thing to do, to wish to fade and be forgotten. Many times were with my mother or after the fact. Some were when my sister died and was no longer there to shield me. Some were when I had to pick up her mask and cape and do what she had done for some time before. Some were when I couldn't sleep because pain radiated in my heart at the loss of a family I never completely laid claim to.**

 **Now is not one of those times.**

 **I need to live for my sister. I need to live to be there for her like no one else can be. I need to be there to encourage her and love her. I need to be there to take care of everyone in ways they can't care for themselves.**

 **I float for a little while, searching for myself again. While I stroll I wonder why I'm unhurried and calm, like a sea before the storm. It's really something that should hit so hard my lungs shouldn't work but, it isn't. I long ago accepted the possibility of death; that part doesn't fade me. The crucial, agonizing part is facing the betrayal of leaving everyone else behind. It's something I can't shake as I aimlessly walk; like an ache on an old wound before the weather drastically changes. Forever in its temporary state.**

 **Suddenly, I feel myself lifting higher, dragging my soul away from ground. I scream silently, lurching down and groping for purchase. My body speeds up, swooping towards a light but something catches my wrist and abruptly I'm being yanked. Hands with nails painted sparkly black with a neon pink dot in each center pushes me down, shoves me against my body and into myself. It hardly registers that Vernolie used to do her nails exactly like that.**

 **Imagine my relief when I finally breathe air in from my own mouth. It's like waking up from a finally satisfying nap, but to a world burning down in flames. At first I don't even open my eyes, just breathe in the room and myself. I feel weight of a body at the foot of my bed and someone's hand grasping my own. They squeeze reassuringly; they know I'm awake. I suck in a breath and finally flutter my eyes open. Ray's sitting next to me with Wicca. Wicca's hands, thankfully, are warm where they hold mine; I smile weakly at the two and thump my head against the pillow.**

 **"Man I can't believe you almost got your dumbass killed," Ray says teasingly, nudging my shoulder. I huff, peering up at the ceiling. I notice Chief curled near my legs and try to reach out to him but fail.**

 **"I can believe it," Wicca says, glaring at me in a scolding fashion. I twist my face apologetically, attempting to sit up. When I do weight drops down against my chest like an elephant took a seat on me; I wheeze. Wicca bolts up and helps me sit properly, warm hands carful to not further advance my injuries and soothing. Chief stirs at my motion and smiles widely at me. I notice Olive isn't by my side and frantically look around.**

 **"Where's Ol-"**

 **"Right there," Chief points to the bed on my right. I see a chastisement tingling against his lips but instead he just nudges me into a tight hug. Over his shoulder I glance at Olive; Theseus sits next to her and Shy, who somehow managed to squeeze into the same bed. All three are sound asleep. Lyre's lying in the bed next to Olives with some girls from her grade surrounding her. I sigh in relief when I glance to my left and see Deck followed by Tenor. Nox and Furry are with them, along with Deck's Slytherin friend, Grease.**

 **"God you're all idiots! Didn't you think MAYBE instead of RACING INTO A MESS OF WIZARDS AND DEMENTORS THAT YOU SHOULD GET A TEACHER?" Monarch shouts as she rockets into the room with McGonagall on her tail. Her raised voice wakes Deck; our eyes meet. He sighs with relief.**

 **"I think what she did was pretty boss," Wicca says with a determined look, smiling at me. Monarch points her finger at Wicca as if to scold her but the glare Wicca defends with is horrifying. I roll my eyes and peer at McGonagall. She's wide eyed and gazing at Monarch with scrutiny as if determining if that loud, assertive voice in fact came from the usually meek, quiet girl.**

 **"Reckless Gryffindor, always shoving your head where it shouldn't be."**

 **"Pardon me for saving my sisters life," I grovel; ears heating and drawing back defensively. Monarch grumbles at me then flees to exit the hospital wing. Wicca and Ray snort on a laugh. McGonagall clears her throat and darkens her gaze like a mother scolding her child.**

 **"What were you thinking?"**

 **"Well. I was probably thinking something along the lines of oh shit-sister-death eaters-ex step dad. Sorry my inconvenient almost death kinda makes the memory go screwy," I snap though I know my anger shouldn't be towards Headmistress. She wrinkles her brow expectantly as Lyre shouts a praise my way.**

 **"Okay I'm sorry."**

 **"Apology accepted. I admit had I been in a mirror situation I too would have charged in. It is good you are alive. You're excused from classes the rest of the week but, all of you are not and must be off now that you know they are alive and well." Madame Pomfrey hustles around us to enforce McGonagall's point. Wicca groans, hugs me, then follows the rest of the students out. Chief hesitates, hand on my arm; I nudge him with the side of my head, motioning for him to follow. When he does my heart pangs in longing; I sigh and glance around.**

 **"So do tell us how we managed to all fight Dementors and FULLY grown wizards without any help from a teacher," Lyre shouts, brow raised expectantly. Madam Pomfrey scoffs at her and fluffs her pillow with agile, practiced hands. I grin at Lyre then smother my mouth into a flat line when McGonagall arches her brow at me.**

 **"We had matters to deal without off grounds."**

 **"What matters?"**

 **"Things not releasable to children," she says softly, eyes connecting with mine. I swallow the anger sickening my throat and breathe deeply. I don't have to glance at Lyre to know her own face is flushed with anger and her lips twist bitterly. She hates being categorized by her age.**

 **"But we're old enough to face off Dementors?" Deck asks darkly, voice rough with disuse. Tenor stretches over to high five him. The contrast of Decks pale skin against Tenors sun kissed skin strikes me at the sight. It's almost like his skin and mine or Lyre's and mine.**

 **"That was a terrible misfortune. When there is more to tell, you shall be informed."**

 **"Fine." Headmistress McGonagall looks the four of us over with sadness crinkling her gaze. She opens her mouth and raises a hand, spinning around to check the door. Madame Pomfrey glances the other way as she straightens Olive and Shy's blanket; the girls are still asleep.**

 **"I once had students like you. I didn't trust them as well as I should have and won't repeat the mistake. What I can tell you is that you best be watching yourself, Ms. Brink, and that little one of yours there. And keep those around you close. Darkness always finds a way to seed, even after so much light," she says, her eyes stern and set. I nod simply, wondering which students to which she was referring, Potter or before? With those as her final words she turns and briskly strides from the room, robes a flurry around her.**

 **"So hey we're all alive," Tenor says, shrugging slightly. Deck snorts, Lyre rolls her eyes, and I shift uncomfortably. There's a powerful ache in radiating in my shoulder, right over the imprint of bruising Deck noticed beneath my tank top on my birthday. My fingers grope for the wound, tearing back the hospital gown barring my way.**

 **The finger marks have blurred into a circle; it has a dark green under tent to it. I poke it; wincing in pain as I do so. "You got nicked by the curse, right there girl. It bounced off after you were pushed down and only managed to brush ye," Madame Pomfrey explains.**

 **"Pushed?" I asked curiously, glancing at Lyre. She frowns and shakes her head, peering over my shoulder to Deck. I swap my gaze, watching him in inquiry. He quirks his lips up to the side in a sad sort of attempt at a smile and shrugs.**

 **"You saved my life."**

 **"Not completely," he says with wide and knowing eyes. I curl my brow, flickering my eyes from him to Lyre and Tenor. Decks hands are clutching the blanket tightly as if the memory nearly kills him and I'm not entirely sure it doesn't. If I saw that happen to him I'd be a discombobulated mess of rage and sorrow. Tenors rigid, tightly wound like Lyre, as if hardly able to sit any form but upright. Lyre finally clears her throat and drums her hands along the blanket. "Okay. Basically you died. Your heart stopped when it hit you; we couldn't get you breathing alone for awhile." She looks me dead in the eye, blue irises blown wide and melting from solid ice to a roaring river. I can see her guilt for not being the one to have saved me boil beneath the surface; I tense, ready for a reprimand, but do not receive one.**

 **"Don't go where I can't follow, Rieki. I'll find a way to follow," she says evenly, hint of a smile grazing her lips. Though I feel amusement that she quoted The Lord of the Rings on me, I frown, peering down at my twisted hands.**

 **I hadn't meant to go there. I hadn't fought much either, now that I go back and think. Can you fight when dying? Do you really have a choice? I can't answer any of my own questions and I know of few who actually could.**

 **The choice doesn't scare me. What scares me is how I would choose, given the chance again. Because I know, in the darkest place of my heart, my choice would be selfish and wrong. I hope I'm never presented with that option, never again. I have too much to live for to give in to my exhausted will. There's only so much a person can take before they shatter their breaking point and explode.**

 **I understand why people refer to loosing it as exploding. It's because when an explosion occurs everything bursts into flame and is demolished. The ground is bared, if not for a moment, and everything clouds the air. In the air the pieces of the bomb that set up the explosion are thrown and scattered to various places; leaving nothing fit quite right. Every time you explode you lose a piece of yourself.**

 **"Rieki?" Deck asks, brow knit curiously. I sigh, threading my fingers together in my lap. My eyes stray to Olive and Shy, so innocent and young. Hardly touched by the treacherous task of aging they are. It almost lightens my heart, until I recall Methaine's face as he attempted to strike me down.**

 **His eyes watched Olive.**

 **Was he aiming for me, or her? Did I just get in the way or was I the target?**

 **The twisting in my stomach tells me I already know the answers to both questions. Neither are ones I can mentally handle so I do the only thing I can and swallow my fear and paranoia and start up a friendly conversation with my friends.**

 **Bravery is a strange thing in all forms. I only wish I had it now as I did protecting Olive because I know that my road ahead will certainly require every bit of what house entails. And maybe, just maybe, some kindness, ambition, and brains.**


	9. Finding Family in the Oddest of Places

**"Rieki?"**

 **"Deck?" I grumble, rolling around to face him in my bed. I jolt in surprise when I see him standing over me, arm in a cast. With wide eyes I reach out and brush my fingers against the bumpy, hard material. He half heartedly smiles and shrugs.**

 **"Can I?" He glances down at the bed almost bashfully. It's the closest thing I've ever seen him to being embarrassed; it's actually quite adorable. Had I not spotted the worry crease between his brow and slight twitching of his fingers I would have told him how fond I was of this flash of a side. Instead, I smile softly and scoot over, a welcome invitation. Deck slides in next to me. For a few breathless moments we just lie there; shoulders touching and content with one another's presence. That is until his fingers reach out for mine and tangle them together, equal parts of support and need for.**

 **"Talk about it," I prompt, nudging him slightly with my shoulder. Deck huffs a laugh, peering up at the widow near our heads. I can't help but stare at the way his pale skin smoothes out under the blanket of moonlight; how it seems to glow.**

 **"I should technically be asking you, it was you who went through it."**

 **"Shy was there too," I argue softly, gazing into his eyes. He watches me kindly, openly, bearing all down to his bone thick doubt.**

 **"But it wasn't my sister's father. And he didn't try to kill me."**

 **"Well he kinda did, maybe not directly," I joke, hoping to lighten the mood. He cocks a dark, shapely brow at me and tilts his head closer to my own. For a brief, heart lurching moment I think he's going to kiss me but rather he only brushes his lips against my brow. I sigh and lean my cheek on his shoulder.**

 **"I... You died Rieki."**

 **"Well obviously he's a poor shot otherwise I would have stayed that way."**

 **"Rieki."**

 **"Okay, okay," I breathe in deeply, glancing at my sister. She has Shy held up in her arms and is snoring lightly. I smile. "I wasn't, but now I'm alright. You saved me Deck, and here I am in the flesh, alive and...Better," I reply distantly, eyes trained on Olive. Deck cups my chin and pulls my face back towards his; I can't stop glancing at his lips. I've never been kissed before and after dying I want to live, just a little. I've been told it's like breathing new air and beating two hearts as one.**

 **"Do you think your mother's death and this are related?"**

 **"I wouldn't put it past him. He's done some... Awful things to us," I say, fidgeting awkwardly. Deck nudges my nose with his and presses our foreheads together. For a moment we just sit and breathe one another in. The closeness, the warming skin surrounding me, it eases my heart a little, melts one of my thick, self made walls, that bars others from entering.**

 **"You never talk about it," he says softly, eyes flickering to my own. I sigh, peering off to the side."I know you want to talk about it even if you don't," he adds, a gentle sternness bracing his eyes.**

 **"It's not easy to."**

 **"With the right person," Deck encourages. I grin lopsidedly and look towards Lyre, tossing and turning in her sleep clad in her Peter Pan pajamas. Deck follows my line of sight and laughs softly. "I could wake up Lyre," he suggests with a knowing glimmer to his eyes.**

 **"Na," I laugh. "I'll settle for you," I tease, mouth now twisted in a smirk. Lyre pushes me to talk on every occasion; even those when I'm fairing much better than it appears. When I do rant to her she tries her hardest to brighten my mood, but I don't as much anymore as I used to. She knows everything on my mind, most times, before I have to even open my mouth so the need to rant lessens. There's no need to babble on about something that's already been thoroughly explained.**

 **Deck kisses the crease between my knit brow and leans back, eyes focusing on the bed directly across from us. That's the bed I usually occupied when injured, though most injuries weren't acquired through school. Magic is a wonderful thing, I tell you.**

 **"Only if you're ready."**

 **"I don't know. Here," I say, holding out my arms though one is still tangled with Decks and it's an awkward stretch. He cocks his brow, glancing me up and down. "Point," I insist. He leans over, with his casted arm, and brushes his fingers against my shoulder. I quirk my lips, avoiding eye contact.**

 **"Shoulder popped out of place twice. Once cuts from a broken lamp she busted against the wall next to me." Deck moves his fingers down, pressing into the skin more. I sigh shakily. "Grabbed by the arm and thrown a lot. No fractures but plenty of bruising and cuts." Decks slides down to my wrist, smoothing his fingertips into the bone. "Sprained six, hairline fracture once. Lots of bruises." Finally they travel to my hand where they grasp onto my fingers. I breathe deeply, focusing on the reality of his touch; how present and pleasant it feels. "Small fractures in all my fingers but my left thumb. Cracked knuckles a lot, bloody knuckles more." Deck shakes his head and brings my hand up to his moth, pressing a cold kiss to the middle knuckle. I huff a laugh and roll my head backwards, finally making eye contact. He's smiling slightly, eyes serious and dark but somehow bright against my gaze. He touches my thigh, hand hesitant despite my lack of reaction. "More bruising. Lots of twisted or sprained ankles." My stomach now, fingers hardly brushing the medical gauze. "Kicked there, bruised ribs, fracture once or twice." Deck nods slowly, eyes troubled but soft against mine. After a moment of silence I speak.**

 **"So I talked about it."**

 **"Yeah, but only facts. Not how you feel," he points out and he's right. I don't. I only skim by the bare minimum, factual non descriptive things that don't cut as deep. Somehow Decks eyes are encouraging and I find myself diving in under water.**

 **"Anger that Methaine left and ruined my mother. That I could have been fine, we could have been fine, but he had to ruin any chance. Anger that he killed my sister, took away the last resort I had and the only guidance near me. Anger my mother ruined me. She depleted all of... Of who I am. It's like every time she hit me a piece shook loose and broke off completely. Lonely because no matter what I have I'll never have the family I wanted to have. I'll never want to be held and comforted by my mother. Sad because my sister will never get to know her mother, the one she could have had before this mess happened. Nostalgic because... Because I want... I wanted to be a kid. I didn't want to grow up so fast. I want the sister I was robbed of and the picture perfect mom advertised on the telly. Guilty I let it all happen and sat back. I told no one, I just let it happen, took it laying down without even throwing up my hands in defense. Frustrated because no matter what I do I just can't forget. I can't let go. For some reason I just... The anger and frustration and exasperations just stuck and it won't budge and I'm frozen while everything grows around me and develops while I just stay stuck. I'm fucking pissed that I left my sister there to fend for herself. It was so selfish and god I'm a terrible person. I really am. I knew exactly what mess I was leaving her in and still I left. Does that make me a monster? That I wasn't there?" I ask, voice growing to a crescendo before I schwartzando and drop down to practically nothing from my previous forte. Deck watches me and I almost flush from the emotion storming inside me like an orchestra trying to beat the sound of crashing waves on a shore.**

 **Decks looming over me now, body hovering just barley over mine. I shrink away, just a little, and curl into his arm. He sighs deeply and leans down; pressing a brush of lips to my cheek. My eyes spot with tears I'd never admit to. "I'm afraid." I don't have to explain of what, he already knows.**

 **"There's nothing I can tell you to change any of that but, I don't think you're a monster. You won't turn out like her, okay? You're a girl who raises everyone but never had a chance to be raised herself. I'm sorry you didn't get that and I know I can't give you that. But I can give you a family. Lyre and I, we'll be your family. It's not the same but, hey, we're here okay?" I smile softly and nod, pulling him down into a hug. I'm not better, no boy will magically swoop into my life and make me better but sometimes the connecting, knowing there's people in your corner like Deck and Lyre and Wicca and Chief, it makes all the difference.**

 **"Can we switch subjects?" I ask. Deck grins and rolls until I'm laying halfway on his chest. It's slightly breathtaking, being so close to someone that way, but I'm sure to remain physically constant.**

 **"Sure."**

 **"So when were you going to tell me you're secretly a really affectionate person?" I ask, grinning teasingly. Deck raises his brow and tilts his chin down; falsely flabbergasted.**

 **"At least I'm not a cat!"**

 **"I'm not a cat!" I whisper shout, playfully punching him in the shoulder. This teasing, fluff of sorts, it feels good. It's something that's mine that no one can steal from me. They can mimic or mock, even capture it but it will always be my safe place. Other than libraries, of course.**

 **"Let's see. You make noises that are borderline purring, you curl around everything in sight, and you shed. There's not one day I go without finding your hair on me somewhere. Cat," he observes, clucking his tongue playfully. I roll my eyes fondly.**

 **"Technically I'm a bear. But hey, cats are awesome."**

 **"Lovely in fact," Deck says in a tone so amused it sounds like a purr. I shrug on a smile, gazing into his eyes. They blink at me, open and inviting. Affectionate. My smile smooths into a slight curve of lip until we just look at one another, showing everything we can't say.**

 **"Radiant," he says and for once, for a moment, I let myself believe it.**

 **And it's there bathed in moon and starlight, laying right next to my sister and best friend, I receive my first kiss. And then, my second.**

 **It's like stars burning up and exploding beneath my skin, orchestras booming a longotto'd crescendo I can feel vibrating in my bones, and wind dancing erotically within my lungs. I tangle my fingers in his short hair and pull him closer, smiling against his mouth when he molds his hands against my waist and cheek. I don't shy away, not from him, not like this, and even as my first I know it will be something I'll never forget. His lips are cold and slightly chapped but mine aren't much better off and our mouths are angled awkwardly and our rhythm is erratic and soft all at once but somehow amidst it's chaos it's perfect. The moon shines against our skin, creating equal skin tones melted together. For a brief moment every worry, every fear and anger flattens in my chest and mind. All I can feel is affection and something so close to family.**

 **When he leans back and whispers "I'm your family now, okay? You don't have to do it alone, I promise," I don't fight the relieved tears that leak from my lids. Deck smiles and kisses them away, as cliché as it sounds. I tilt my head for another breath taking kiss, relishing in the feel of his arms rested comfortably around my lower back, fingers lazily brushing through the curls that rest there. Deck presses his nose to mine; nuzzles me lovingly and presses our foreheads together.**

 **When he looks into my eyes it's like drowning in the brightest water, suffocating but wondrous. Fondness and care, maybe even something more burns into my gaze from his; in his eyes I see myself, and I see myself smile.**

 **And all I can think?**

 **My family.**


	10. Planning

**"YOU GUYS KISSED TEN FEET AWAY AND SAID NOTHING?" Lyre shouts, hands frantically flurrying. I flash a shit eating grin, shoving my hands in my pockets. She and I are currently standing around the infirmary for our daily checkups. Deck and Tenor slipped out to smuggle us in butterbeer. Olive and Shy are playing hide and go seek with each other and Theseus. Currently Shy is it; Olive is behind my bed and Theseus is in a medical supply chest.**

 **"Twice."**

 **"My ship has grown into a destroyer. Tis cannon." I laugh at her, rubbing a bruise near my hip. She catches me and cocks her brow; I shrug it off and pretend to peer around the room.**

 **"So how bad was it?" She asks. I snort, fixing to cross my arms under my annoyingly prominent chest but decide against it and instead pet down my wild hair. Olive shrieks when Shy finds her; a motion resorting in the two dissolving in giggles.**

 **"It...Wasn't," I say, blinking in wonder. He's hinted that he's been kissed before, back in Arkansas, but other than that and a short fling with a Beaubaxton girl he hasn't kissed really anyone. Not to mention it was my first, so my experience lacks.**

 **"Oh so it was good?"**

 **"You really want to know what it was like to kiss your cousin?" I ask with a laugh, pushing my weight back against the window sill. Lyre distorts her face in slight disgust, thoughtful on the matter if fangirling was worth the gruesome details involving her cousin.**

 **"Eh. Na," she finally says when Tenor and Deck slip in. I catch Decks eyes and smile broadly, lips inching wider when he smiles back. Tenor's halfheartedly glaring at me; he hands Lyre her cup and angles his hands in his hips. I bounce on my heels and sip nervously from my mug.**

 **"I was going to tell you!" I start, holding my hands out defensively.**

 **"Your boyfriend had to! I feel so betrayed, by my own housemate," he says with a fake sniffle, jutting his chin up in the air. I roll my eyes fondly, peering at Deck whose eyes are lax and calm, knowing his friends just dramatic and truly felt no disappointment.**

 **"My deepest and most sincere apologies but to be fair I just now told Lyre and she ranks above you," I say with a smile as my eyes stray to Olive, who I also haven't told. She's poking her head under beds and behind curtains; the seeker now rather than hider. I sip my butterbeer unblinkingly as Deck presses our shoulders together. I squint down at his casted arm hanging against his side.**

 **"So I wanted to thank you guys. For, you know," I say, motioning towards my sister. Tenor snorts and Lyre raises her brow sarcastically, dubious attitude clouding her eyes. I swing my weight towards Deck unknowingly, only noticing when our hips touch. If he happens to slip an arm around my waist well no one says a thing, besides the smothered grin Lyre swallows.**

 **"It's a good thing you guys were there. How'd it happen?" Deck asks. Tenor glances at Lyre who curls her lip up in displeasure.**

 **"I ran into Lyre after visiting the Owlery to send a letter to bae and she had Shy and Olive with her. Said she and Deck plotted this date thing for Rieki to help you chill out a bit. So I walked with them and Olives hands started shaking then before we knew it BAM Dementors and Olive was screaming and there was spells and shit. You guys got there pretty fast," Tenor explains, fiddling with his wand. I've always enjoyed his wand; it has dark blue coloring the handle with silver linings surrounding the cylinder. Black is spaced out in rectangles and an onyx is stuck on the but of the handle. It reminds me of a sonic screwdriver.**

 **"Olive's hands shake when he's close. Never learned why," I inform, crossing my arms. I don't say it had to do with the Cruciatus curse that stung us both deep. It's not something I can bring myself to explain, not now, not ever. It's a terrible, poisonous feeling as though toxin is eating away, burning every sense left within. Every single muscle in your body is so taut it just might burst from the tightness and thinness.**

 **"Any idea why he came?" The question lingers in the air, unconnected and unanswered. My mind frantically searches but nothing buds to mind other than the old hashes between he and my mother. And my sister, and I, I suppose. All but the daughter he wanted to stumble in his footsteps and lead as he did.**

 **The thing about Olive is she isn't a leader but a follower. She likes following people she says, because when you follow you're there for every moment of your leader, somehow acting as the support for the one comforting all.**

 **Methaine has no heart, just a drive, a need for power that overwhelms every sense he manages to pretend he has. He shed his following cloak when Harry killed Voldemort and took the dark lords place. I doubt he ever cared about Voldemort as my sister says a follower cares for their leader. I'm sure all he wanted was power. That's what drew my mother to him, his stance and potent skills. She thought finally, there's a man who will take care of everything I need and who has the recourses to keep me and my children happy. But she was wrong, we all were.**

 **He had the recourses. For awhile we lived happily and for awhile I began to believe he was the one, the person who was going to be my father. Then things began slipping. Items would go missing from the house, mother wouldn't come out of her room unless prompted some days, and most nights Methaine wouldn't come home. Finally, on Easter, Aurorers showed up at our door, looking for Methaine. We hadn't seen him.**

 **Funny thing was the week before I'd finally hugged him. I called him dad. Told him thank you for being there for my family.**

 **A month passed before he came back and killed my sister. Cursing my mother and I, Olives curse was unintentional, caught in the crossfire of ours, but admittedly my mother got the front of it. My older sister saved me from the dying curse, that's why she died. Aurorers finally showed up and Methaine disappeared.**

 **We hadn't heard of him for years. Last I'd known he'd escaped from Azkaban. Everyone treated me as though I was glass that year, my second year, seeing as he broke out on my birthday and wrote on the wall in crimson blood: I'm coming for you birthday girl. Of course I was frightened but away in my solace I felt secure and safe like a rich man's most precious ring. As a child you blindly spin through life; a dancer unable to see much other than yourself as you twirl and stretch along the stage; blindly trusting the music to carry you along, never waver until the end. Growing up is when the music stops and your eyes swell with the sight of the thousands of people collected before you; all peering at you with scrutiny and judgment. It's knowing the music has waned, leaving you to guide yourself. It's the ache in your muscles left from all that exhilarating movement, the reality of how sore you're going to be tomorrow. God it hurts.**

 **"It's suspicious to me," Deck says. I'm not surprised by this; we'd stayed up whispering about our fears and random thoughts, this had been one he'd voiced. Lyre makes a motion with her hand as if agreeing and Tenor blinks with confusion.**

 **"Trelawny dying, the prophecy, Rieki's...mother, now this," Deck explains. He chokes slightly on the word 'mother', as if reluctant to give her such a loving and respected title. I can't blame him. I haven't been able to call her anything but her name to her face for years.**

 **"My bets on Methaine for the murders," I say blatantly, voice void of emotion or care. Being in a room full of people so in-tune to my emotions and expressions makes it cumbersome to lie or fake security and apathy. I almost predict their looks before I drink them in; Lyre with her lips pinched, brow slightly pointed towards the middle of her brow, Tenor with his head titled, glasses just hardly inching down his nose, eyes wide like an owl, and Deck with his mouth just barley tilting down at the edges, and eyes narrowed just so.**

 **"Mine too; you think he's buying into the whole prophecy thing?" I'm thankful they also know to not directly confront me on the issue.**

 **I take the term 'confrontational' to all new levels. Any fight I engage in I damn sure plan to finish rather than swallow it and go on pretending it never happened. Better to move on that way; getting it all out in one go.**

 **"I don't see how he's ever even heard it," Lyre offers. I quirk my lips, thinking back on countless nights I've spent forever trying to forget. Some nights, after she stumbled home in her tight, rucked up pen skirt and bright pink halter-top that hardly held anything in, she'd ramble about him as she threw bottles against the wall or against my skull, really depended on the distance between us. I blacked out a few times those nights but she always healed the wounds enough to bring me back to consciousness.**

 **"My mother did. She was... Superstitious and talked to Trelawny on occasion. When Trelawny found out about my mother… abusing me she cut all contact," I reply. Decks usually cold hand feels warm against my pajamas, tightening against my hip.**

 **"When was that?" Lyre asks. I blink, counting on my fingers and sigh when the answer accumulates in my mind.**

 **"Like two weeks before school started this year, I think. I had a head injury everything before October 30th is sort of fuzzy," I explain, fighting the urge to trace my fingers around the bumpy scar rising in my scalp. Lyres gaze travels from my hairline to the parting of my hair; however messy and unkept it is. Few pieces of my unruly hair ever stay where I place them; they always struggle to the other side despite how there they never manage to fit in.**

 **"That's all too close to not be connected," Deck says.**

 **"It's freaky too. Man, you okay?" Tenor asks me, nudging me with his foot. I blink, noticing the monotonous glare to my eyes by feel. I hurriedly drop it, replace it with a mask of sharp interest.**

 **"Yeah. I was just thinking. I guess I agree. Lyre, what did the prophecy say?" I ask, switching the topic off my wellbeing. Lyre scrunches up her pale nose, blue eyes sparkling like star-sapphires. It's beautiful stone named after the silvery, starlight sparkles that rest within the stone. It's rare and costly; I have two. Sapphire is my birthstone and, before she died of kidney failure, my grandmother got me them. She said they reflected the skies in my bright eyes, which is odd because I have brown eyes, not dark blue or light grey. They're buried in my jewelry box, only my few friends know about them. Only three know their whereabouts.**

 **"Fred, the ghost, only said he heard that one part about the houses being united in an act of valor. I don't know the rest," she says, frown deepest in her mouth and brow. I lean over and brush her bangs out of her eyes, about to tell her not to worry, when Olive launches herself around my legs. I wobble, holding my cup steady as not to spill it on my sister as I mock scowl.**

 **"Olive you could have gotten drenched!" I scold, patting at her arms. Shy's sheepishly smiling at Deck as if she wants something or has already done it and wants him to not lecture her up and down for it. Theseus eyes Lyre's butterbeer and shoots his arm out to grab to handle; Lyre smacks his hand away with a hiss.**

 **"Can I have one sip? Pleeeeeease?" Olive asks, voice raising an octave. I cock my brow, take a slow, long sip from my drink and smirk at her.**

 **"No."**

 **"Pleaaaase!"**

 **"You are too young, no," I insist, lifting my arm higher to get out of her ridiculously long arm reach. Olive pouts then tangles herself around Deck, fluttering her eye lashes. Shy's chin is titled, eyes wide in the center but narrowed towards the edges, a mirror of her brothers though his eyes are narrowed with suspicion.**

 **"Can we?"**

 **"No."**

 **"But whyyyyy?" Shy asks, voice reaching even higher levels than Olives had. I laugh, pursing my lips teasingly at Deck. He shoves them off a bit, handing his cup to Tenor. The girls slump their shoulders. I roll my eyes, digging in my pockets.**

 **"Wouldn't you rather have every flavor jellies?" I ask, extracting four packages from my pocket. All the kids perk up, intent to snatch the candy and run. Theseus reaches for it but I yank back last second, eyeing them. "No more begging for butterbeer. Got it?" All three nod enthusiastically and scamper off to a bed five down from us, trading off flavors they prefer.**

 **"Nice damage control," Deck comments as he accepts his butterbeer back. I smile, touching cup rims with Lyre in a sort of toast. After we're sure the kids are no longer listening I bring our predicament back up.**

 **"There's only one way we're going to figure all this out," I say. Lyre bristles with excitement and aggravation, Deck breathes in a heavy sigh, and Tenor pumps his fist enthusiastically.**

 **We have to steal the prophecy.**


	11. Distraction

**It didn't take much to recruit other friends to help us. They've never been gun shy about sneaking around, and it's certainly not our first time doing so. Wicca and Ray are faking a fight while Nox and Deck are going to as well, thinning out authority along the grounds in hopes they'll try to break up the fight. Chief, who has potions, plans on 'accidentally' mixing an explosive mixture that will hopefully catch all the attention towards that corridor, the only space left open and away from a distracting fight. I am going to distract McGonagall in her office; I'm prepared for her and her scrutiny. Furry and Lyre are going to the tower, leaving Tenor as lookout. Furry knows the tower best, seeing as it holds his favorite class, and will lead Lyre to the room where Trelawny kept her prophecies. Though Lyre isn't the sneakiest of people, unlike Furry whose so light footed you wouldn't know he was near until he jumped on top of you, she knows what the prophecy is like and will recognize it easier than any of us.**

 **Let me tell you this; fooling the headmistress is no easy task. Luckily, she and I are somewhat close and my appearances in her office aren't all that strange. The only downside to that though is her ability to read my language, movements, and mumbled noises like a child's book in the hands of a genius.**

 **I'm perched on a chair in her office, trying to speak about the ordeal with Methaine. McGonagall is cross, frustrated after her talk with Rita Skeeter, editor of the Daily Prophet. She wants to interview us; McGonagall refused with a rather lengthy berating of how Rita could write herself to death for all she cared, that she would not intrude on her students private matters. I've never been more thankful for her sturdy decisiveness.**

 **"I do not see how that blasphemous fool of a woman could be so insistent," McGonagall grumbles, tossing yet another letter into the trash bin. I look at the black cylinder, noting how it's near bursting with parchment and shiver slightly.**

 **"Maybe you should go see her in person, show her whose boss?" I suggest, winding my fingers together and slouching back in my chair. Headmistress pauses, regarding me carefully to gauge my true thoughts on the matter, then rolls her eyes. I smile coyly, facing the stern, fond glare with an innocent smile.**

 **"I have duties to attend, dear girl. That would be counterproductive and I can only imagine the story she would stir."**

 **"Well, I don't want her talking to Olive regardless. Olive.. Says what she thinks."**

 **"A trait she inherited from you undoubtedly," McGonagall says, mouth sure and fingers placing her wire rimmed spectacles on her nose to peer properly at another sheet of parchment. I quirk my lips, knowing I do the same but purposely stalling.**

 **"But I'm practiced at it, I know better."**

 **McGonagall shoots me a glare over her parchment that would burn my skin if it had been turned up a degree higher. I wait for an opening to babble about random things to keep her set in her office but she refuses to drop her gaze. She peers at the dark circles under my lids, paling skin, furrowed brow, then my sunken shoulders. At the attention I sit a little straighter, cross my legs ladylike, and square my shoulders. It's almost comical how I pull my sleeves down and shift my weight, ensuring my skin is covered though most of my bruises are fading, or have nearly completely faded. Bruises I'll never have again.**

 **"Have you gotten the arrangements for your mother finalized?" She asks, intense gaze dropping to her paper. I take the moment of brief privacy to fidget, wince at the thought. When her eyes return to mine I am ready, strong bodied and tall, a force to be withheld. She's hardly phased at my attempt of stability. That woman has the strength of forty men and the mouth of a once wronged woman never to be wronged again. If I didn't respect her so id compare her to my mother; a hurricane with skin, full of courage and action despite the small cage in which it is kept. Only my mother let her fear and insanity consume her; McGonagall would never allow that to happen to herself or anyone else. Though she has no children of her own, she is the best mother I have ever known.**

 **"The ministry won't release her body. All her family is dead and friends...gone. We have school. Going back for a fruitless funeral would be silly."**

 **"And your house?"**

 **"Left to me in her will. Methaine paid it off in full, finally something he actually did as a decent human being." I don't mention I'm hell-bent on selling the thing. It's old, two bedrooms, has a dishwasher that runs a dark, limy colored water and cabinets that groan at the mere inkling of jarring open.**

 **Not to mention all the memories. Most I wouldn't want to keep if it killed me because some of those memories almost did. Everywhere I look reminds me- like, "Oh, she slapped me the first time there at the front door," or, "Oh, she shattered the lamp I bought her for Mothers Day on my head near the couch there," and, "Oh, she preformed the sectumsempra spell there, on the carpet." You can still see slight rifts in the carpeting of places I've shed blood on, though I've scrubbed them near to the bone.**

 **"Rieki. When was the last hour you slept?" I quirk my lips, weighing whether lying would be of any use. She peers at me, warm, but sharp gaze intent to pull the answer right out of my eyes.**

 **"I dunno."**

 **"Have you eaten?"**

 **"Yes," I say, firmer than before. I have, that wasn't a lie. Still McGonagall tips her nose down, peers at me over those wire thin glasses, and squints.**

 **"You're worn."**

 **"I'm fine," I say, the word echoing through my mind in a never ending tandem. It sounds strange, tastes strange even, rolling off my tongue. Swallowing a wince I sit a little straighter, so straight my spine begins to ache.**

 **"I'll call lunch-"**

 **"No!" I nearly shout, jolting from my seat to grasp her arm. She flickers her gaze pointedly down to my bone white grip against her robes, but doesn't move. I cough, retracting my hold as if burned and stand straighter, though now positioned between her and the door. "I did eat, earlier, I promise. Can we just enjoy one another's company here?"**

 **"And whatever is the matter with me stepping out the door for a moment?" She asks, suspicion lacing her tone. I shuffle awkwardly, shrugging off my glamour of courage and stoicism; leaving exhaustion and raw emotion plainly painting my features.**

 **"Nothing. But I ate already, Chief made sure of that, and... I do need to talk," I find myself saying, words spewing from my mouth in a slur. McGonagall nods sharply, pushing her papers aside with a swish of her wand and tilts her head; pointed hat angled at 2 o'clock.**

 **"Then by all means." She motions for me to continue with a wave of her wrinkled hand; I gulp.**

 **"How'd Methaine get in?"**

 **"Apparition."**

 **"And what 'matters' did you have to deal with off grounds?" I ask. Her lips tighten in a thin line, shoulders stretching to accommodate her erect posture. The way she sits is nothing shy of erect though uncomfortably so.**

 **"I do not see how that is any of your business."**

 **"The moment Methaine apparated into this school it became my business," I growl, banging my fist on the table. She looks at me in slight shock, casting a curious brow on my clenched hand. I shake my head, withdrawing my fist.**

 **"Look. I've got one dead mother, one dead father, one dead sister, and one living sister and I don't want to end up with another body on my hands. Now, you weren't here when I needed you, or worse when Olive needed you. I got cursed and hexed and soul sucked and I deserve to know what's going on," I say sternly, forcing my voice to level out and appear convincing. McGonagall's exterior shrinks away slightly; all the tell tale sign I need to know she's giving in bit by bit. She glances around fleetingly and leans towards me.**

 **"You are just a child."**

 **"You and I both know that's not true," I say with a voice even more sure than before. Headmistress sighs, pulling her robes into her lap. I inch forward, raising my brows expectantly.**

 **"There was a… A break out of Azkaban. Many of the hardened criminals have escaped and we were called out to help."**

 **"So basically you're saying Methaine broke out his people to distract you all then came after Olive. And why were you teachers called out? Don't we have Aurorers for that?"**

 **McGonagall regards me slowly for a moment, shakes her head in disappointment, and raises her brow. "It was a mistake calling; they couldn't figure out who called us out after we arrived. And, no, I'm saying he's after you, and now he has an army to follow suit."**

 **"Wait a minute. You're saying there's going to be another war?" I ask, somehow able to keep my rock hard stability though my mind won't stop buzzing around like a swarm of bees.**

 **"Yes, my dear, I'm afraid so," she says so lightly I begin to fear for her wellbeing over mine. McGonagall is a strong woman made of iron and rock, an unmovable force against any disaster. But, ever since the last battle here, so I've been told, she's softened from diamond to simple stone quartz.**

 **"And... He wants to kill me or at least hurt me in the... Headmistress what if he goes after Olive? He'd know that's the deepest he could ever cut me," I say with a slight trembling hitch to my decaying voice. McGonagall tightly blinks as if the thought nearly twists her stomach in half.**

 **She doesn't have to answer.**


End file.
